Luminescent Fireflies
by Blank Paper
Summary: CHAPTER 16 UP: "I'm scared that he'll reject me because I've been an idiot and he deserves someone better than me," his voice softened, "But I'm willing to make things right for us – everything in that rant will just amount to how much I love him." / A continuation to "Faceless". Read and review. Shounen Ai. Yuuri x OC. OC x Wolfram. Yuuram. Cecile-Gwendal-Wolfram-Conrad.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:**  
Wolfram can only watch as the fireflies fill the New Makoku sky and as Yuuri loves another. Read and review. Shounen Ai. Yuuram…?

**Author's Notes:**  
Majority wanted a sequel or rather, a continuation of "Faceless," and so here it is. Though it could be sort of a stand alone story.

**Pairings:**  
Yuuri x OC, Mild OC x Wolfram, Yuuri x Wolfram, Conrad-Wolfram-Gwendal moments

**Warning/s:**_  
- Excerpts from "Faceless"_

- If you don't get it, please kindly read "Faceless."

- Possible out of character tendencies.

- Ratings… might just go up.

**- -.-.-Page Break-.-.-**

**Disclaimer:**  
You'd think they'd be together by now.

**Luminescent Fireflies**

"_Do not dare to act innocent, Yuuri Shibuya. I know about your little escapades with that trait—… that woman." The blond snarled just when the king gasped. "You could have done it freely, you know. If you just told—I would never stop you from renouncing our engagement."_

"_Wolf—"_

"—_Frankly, I am getting tired of this charade. I am tired of chasing after you and I am pretty sure that you are sick of me accusing you. We both deserve better than this, Yuuri. Both of us. However I will not pretend that this is not a heavy blow for me, but I think this is for the best."_

_Yuuri's eyes widened, Wolfram could easily tell the same way he guessed that the double black whipped his head to meet nothing but his ex-fiancé's back still turned. "Are you sure?"_

"_Yes. She is a nice woman, and Greta gets along with her." The mazoku shut his eyes, engulfing his vision in darkness. "She loves you and you love her back, your eyes show it." He shrugged. "Do not worry about me, Yuuri. I… will find someone one day."_**_ But I will never find anyone like you._**

"_I… I don't know what to say." The monarch audibly whispered as his eyes still stared at Wolframs back. "T—thank you."_

"_I deserve no gratitude. I am not doing this for you. Your Majesty."_**_ I lied, at least notice that._**

**-.-.-**

His emerald green eyes, dull (dead), idly watched from the balcony. His arms, folded as they rested on the ledge—his golden locks, blowing back along with the wind. He was tired, he was paler than usual—he was hurt. And yet, Wolfram could not find it in himself to tear away from the scene below.

"May I have it? Please?!"

Greta's laughter and lively shouts filled the palace open air—she was happy, and it was obvious when she chased after their guest-turned-resident, who seemed to have been holding onto something the little girl wanted.

"Just give it to her," A familiar boyish voice hollered, entering the scene. It was the king—smiling brighter than he ever did as he witnessed his new fiancé playing with his adoptive daughter. "You know she'll do just about _anything_ to get what she wants."

"Well, is it _my_ fault you've raised a spoiled little girl?" The woman of red hair teased with an equally bright smile.

"I'm not spoiled!" The youngest of the group pouted towards the lady, who had merely shot back a taunting, albeit kind gaze.

"Do you expect me to believe you, Princess?" The aforementioned lady grinned while Yuuri allowed a blissful chuckle emit from his nineteen year old lips.

Wolfram sighed from where he had been standing, they—the three below, were the perfect portrait of a joyous family. A family that he, admittedly, will never belong to. And he will never force himself to belong to. For it will only add more to the emotional torment he had been going through since the day he had let go of the monarch.

"Are you alright?"

The blond prince blinked, looking back towards the newly entered company. "Lord Weller." He nodded a solemn greeting.

Conrad nodded back, a smile lacking as he observed his brother's lithe features—"You don't look good." The older man commented, eyeing the blond's fatigued figure from head to toe once more. "Are you alright?"

"…yes." The younger simply shrugged.

"You're pale."

"I'm always pale." Wolfram snapped back, though it had no sharpness in the tone, while he decided to rest his head on his arms. "Therefore I am fine."

"Are you _sure _you're alright?" The brunet asked again with a more concerned edge to his husky voice.

"As I have said before, I am."

"That was not what I meant…" Conrad frowned—_frowned._ "Wolfram."

The blond sighed for the second time, not looking up—or anywhere in particular. He was weary, and he was dizzy. And truthfully, he could not handle any more of the interrogations thrown at him by his brothers, by his mother or by the whole of New Makoku.

"Yes, I am alright with the idea of Yuuri marrying Lady Katarina." Wolfram muffled onto his sleeve. _I have to be._

"Don't lie to me—"

"—Lord Weller, the engagement broke on my own accord." The younger shot up from his position, throwing the glare that, for the longest time, had not been thrown at anyone. "I _must _be fine with it."

Right then and there, Conrad sighed as he forcefully wore a smile onto his handsome face. "If that is what you say, then I believe you." He doubtfully replied, taking his place beside his baby brother—watching the country's king frolic carelessly along with his new-found 'family.'

"Hmph…" Wolfram grunted whilst he buried his face onto the soft fabrics of his sleeves; for safety, security…

…and momentary peace, until—

"Conrad! Wolfram!" Yuuri's enthusiastic call of the two brothers' names broke the spur-of-the-moment silence that the blond enjoyed for a short span of time.

"Your Majesty." Conrad, being the first to be called, gave a curt nod and happy smile to his king and niece as he cast a glance towards the tired golden boy beside him, who—in his turn, merely looked down to the king and Greta with a small smile, (ignoring the human female who stood not far behind the two)—

"Wimp." Said blond smirked.

"I'm sorry," Yuuri had shouted back. "What did you say?! I can't hear you!"

Jade orbs rolled in mock annoyance, turning his back to the king like the arrogant prince he was. And not too soon, the fire wielder had disappeared into the castle—followed by an amused brown haired soldier…

…thus, leaving a very confused double black royalty down below.

**-.-.-**

"Nothing seems to have changed," Conrad spoke all too suddenly, walking side-by-side his younger brother—in any case that the blond might stumble. "Between the both of you."

"You're wrong." Wolfram answered silently, hiding the imbalance in his weakened steps. "_Everything_ changed." He said grimly as he forcibly went on ahead, leaving his older brother behind—just as they did to the king earlier.

**To Be Continued**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: **Please give me reviews with your ideas as to what might happen in this story. They'd be a great help, really. :) Thank you!

**-.-.-**

Gisela had been annoyed, and it did not take a genius to figure that sole fact out. It was obvious, _too _obvious. And it was made much more obvious once she slammed both of her supposedly feminine hands onto the wooden table before her.

Her eyes, soon, easily glared with a sharp edge that may have rivaled that of the blond prince's. "Wolfram, I told you to take a few days off!" The healer frowned. "But you didn't! And now look where it brought you!"

"If I did, then who else will patrol the outskirts?" Wolfram frowned back, crossing his arms defiantly. "I'm a soldier, my duty is to patrol borders and keep people safe!"

"How can you _perform_ your duty if you're sick?!"

"I am _not_ sick!"

The woman rapidly stood from behind her desk, pushing her seat back violently. "Yes, you are!" She practically screamed back. "You're pale, weak and over fatigued from all these patrol shifts you've been taking!" She grimly said while her eyes darkened. So did her aura. "You've never taken the liberty to volunteer yourself in strenuous work before, what changed now?"

"A lot." Was the prince's firm answer, turning away from the healer. "I just have a lot of time in my hands and wasting it will be such a dull way to live my life." He added as he made his way towards the door.

"In any case," Gisela sighed, allowing herself to slump back down onto her chair. "I will warn Lord von Voltaire about your condition. Hopefully you won't be allowed on shifts."

"As if that will stop me." The latter occupant snorted as he disappeared into the hallway—just when the door closed.

**-.-.-**

Conrad waited on the other side. His arms crossed in anticipation, his smile—disappeared into a distant expression of worry and anxiety—his little brother was inside the infirmary, and said little brother had taken too long. And he, being the concerned older brother he was, wanted to just enter and know what was happening to the latter party.

But, out of respect for Wolfram's privacy, all Conrad could do at the moment was wait _calmly_.

And thus, after what had seemed to be an eternity of anticipation, the door finally opened—revealing an exhausted blond exiting the lonesome room.

"Well?" Conrad smiled as he took steps towards his sibling.

Wolfram, at that, shot a light glare towards the older man. "She nearly bit my head off."

"Should I ask why?"

The blond looked away as a small pout, an expression he never openly did in front of anyone—or did at all. "I didn't follow her instructions."

The only reply the golden mazoku got was a questioning raise of brown from his older brother.

Conrad was more concerned than ever. "Which was?" He asked, a bit more urging than before.

Still not facing the other, Wolfram flinched. "That I should refrain from attending my patrol shifts for a short while."

"Why didn't you obey?"

"Because…"

"Wolfram."

"I do _not _wish to stay inside this castle!" The blond answered in finality.

…secretly, the mazoku wished that the latter's interrogation would just stop—for he knew, Wolfram knew, that if the scenario would continue… the truth would end up coming out, revealing its selfish self to the whole world.

But the heavens did not heed the blond's silent pleas. "But if you cause even more fatigue to yourself, sooner or later you won't be able to go outside anymore." The older man frowned, "You better rest up for a few days."

"No!" Wolfram yelled back, almost as if he feared for his life. "No, I will not stay in this castle!"

"It's for the best of your health."

"I don't care!"

"Don't you understand the danger you're putting yourself into?"

"It's you who doesn't understand anything!"

"Wolfram!" Conrad sternly called—it did not take more than that one simply flat, monotone to know that the other had enough of the younger's childishness. It was already clear from the brunet's voice that he was not pleased with Wolfram's act. At least, not anymore.

And yet, even at the verge of his older brother's anger, Wolfram did not stop. "Why don't you get it?!" The golden prince retorted. "I don't want to stay inside and watch my ex-fiancé and his current fiancé flirt!" He unconsciously admitted. "I don't want to _see _and _witness _what my life could have been like, Weller!"

Taken aback with the words that escaped his sibling's lips, all older one of the two could do was stare silently towards the younger of them.

With the utmost disbelief in the phrases that had been said before.

"Sorry," Wolfram quickly muttered, turning away from Conrad. His face, hidden behind his blond bangs—he was ashamed. "I… must be on my way."

"Wait—" Conrad had hollered, his hand raising to grab hold of the blond's shoulder.

But it was of no avail.

At that point, Wolfram had not heard him, nor did the fire wielder even feel any sort of comforting gesture from the brunet soldier when he shrugged the almost offered hand off quite easily—thus, the blond one of the two continued on away from the particular spot he was standing in.

Then there was uneasy silence.

"Conrad!" A voice called in a rush.

The soldier turned in an instant, only to see his godchild fast approaching and very much tired. "Your Majesty?" He blinked in sight of the young king stopping in front of him.

"I—it's Yuuri." The monarch panted as he looked at his godfather. "A—anyway," He breathed. "Have you seen Wolfram?"

"He went ahead of me." Conrad quietly added, "But I don't think you should see—"

"—Okay, thanks! Bye!" Yuuri cut off as he ran ahead of the taller man.

And all the half mazoku did was sigh as he watched the latter run off without lending an ear to what he had to say.

Perhaps, it was for the best.

**-.-.-**

Wolfram walked the halls silently as his thoughts raced back and forth within his mind. Confusing him. Angering him. Playing with him—sending him spirals and spirals of emotions that were no longer in his control. But, fortunate enough, he had already shut the world out as he decided to dwell upon the things that had disturbed his supposedly peaceful afternoon.

"… I need to get the hell out of here." The golden boy mumbled, unconsciously biting onto his bottom lip.

There was no vacant spot for him to stand in anymore—there was nothing of importance that he was needed for, his patrols were only petty excuses to have reasons. When in truth, his existence, after the engagement had been broken, only meant living in the palace walls—breathing and pretend he was happy for their king's new found love.

Wolfram truly had no means to be alive, not even Greta stood as one. Not anymore.

Lord von Bielefeld sighed as he recalled how he and his 'daughter' drifted slowly apart ever since she found out she might as well have a mother—_so who needed a second father?_

The mazoku frowned and looked out the enormous window that rested on the wall towards his right. His dull eyes stared upon the leafless tree that he once sat under in, with Yuuri forcibly sleeping on his lap—Wolfram chuckled at the memory. He remembered how dirty the grass was and how Yuuri wanted to lay down underneath the tree's once lively leaves. He remembered how Gunter tried to stop the king, blabbing about the dirt. He remembered offering his lap as he forced Yuuri, who rejected quite violently, to lie on it.

Wolfram remembered how happy he had been. And he remembered being needed—in a very odd sort of way.

But happiness fleets and being of importance to someone changes.

_My job's over, no one needs me any longer._

"There you are!" A familiar stranger boomed the halls, causing the blond to snap his head back towards the direction he came from. "Wolfram!"

"Yuuri." Wolfram greeted back with a silent nod.

"I've been looking _everywhere_ for you!" The king announced as he raced to grab hold of the fire demon's shoulders.

And the latter shook. "Wimp, I'm here, now stop!" Wolfram frowned, escaping Yuuri's vice grips.

The monarch sheepishly smiled. "Sorry," He said. "I just haven't seen you for a while."

"You did something, didn't you?" The older replied as he crossed his arms. He knew there was something up. "What did you do to Lady Katarina?"

"I did not do anything to her!"

"_Wimp_." Was all it for Yuuri to stand up right.

Scratching the bottom of his chin, the king spoke, "Fine…" He started with a forced huff—an obvious sign that the nineteen year old was having a hard time thinking of the right words. "It's not what _I did_, so to say… it's more about, what _I need to do_…"

"And?" The prince sighed as he attempted to push back the headache that had attacked him all too suddenly.

Yuuri coughed and admitted, "I need your help, Wolf."

Green eyes widened, as a smile slowly formed onto the blond's beautiful face—"Help on what, exactly?" He asked in a friendly manner, feeling ecstatic in the depths of his heart.

In a way, he was still needed.

"Help me propose to her." His young king said in full determination as he looked solely into the eyes of his companion. "_Please._" The desperation poured from his voice.

It was against his mind, it was even against his heart. He knew he did not want any part of it, that he did not need more pain (everything was far more painful already.) But even before he could refuse, even before he could think of the right words _to _refuse—Wolfram nodded back with a sad smile, "Alright."

_Alright, Yuuri. For as long as you need me, I'll stay._

**To Be Continued**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: **I never knew this story clicked to a lot of people. Haha, quite a shocker, really. Please review some more, okay? :)

**-.-.-**

Yuuri frowned as he leaned onto the window, slowly sliding down to sit on the palace floor much like a stubborn child. He, for the past few minutes, had been trying to relax and think of a way (of any way) to actually _be _a person worthy of his fiancé's love and life.

Unfortunately, the monarch was failing.

"I can't think of anything!" He furiously screamed, gripping onto his head like an insane person would have. "Damnit!"

At this, his companion sighed as he decided it would be best to sit down beside the latter and actually help the poor boy think. It was, of course, against his every whim. But Yuuri was still his king, and he was his subordinate, and therefore… if the raven lad needed him, Wolfram would be around.

Even if it may hurt him more and more each time.

"Do you love her?" The soldier forced out his mouth as he, too, leaned back onto the cold comforts of the transparent glass.

"Eh?"

"Do. You. Love. Her?" Those words had been venomous enough to kill his heart that started to pound heavily onto the walls of his chest.

And all Yuuri could ever do was blush back with a surprised expression. "Yes." He squeaked almost like a child afraid of the doctor just as he turned his head to the opposite direction, towards the view of the empty corridor. In hopes to hide the embarrassment.

Wolfram frowned. "Then ask her during the State Ball." He suggested, pushing back the bitter thoughts that swiftly plagued his thoughts. _Why… did you have to ask me…? _ "During your opening speech."

"T—the ball?!" The monarch gulped—his nervousness rapidly raced up his spine in an instant. "W—why?!"

"Why not?" The blond's brow rose.

The latter paled. "Because—"

"Yuuri, be proud and ask Lady Katarina in front of everyone." Wolfram quietly cut the raven teen off with a calm reply. His eyes closed in the sheer tiring feeling of it all. _Why me?_ "It would mean a lot to her if you proclaimed your feelings to the world. It gives her the reassurance that you are hers and no one else's."

"But… I… I can't do that! What if I do something wrong?!"

A tired huff escaped the prince's lips, "Love overcomes fear," He absently started as if he was talking to himself. "And replaces it with courage." Wolfram's eyes remained close, not wanting to see the expression that his king may have shot at him—

—One very oddly sentimental look graced the king's face. "Wolf…"

Wolfram smiled back, his eyes opened in revelation of his glistening emerald orbs. "At the State Ball, ask her." The fire wielder whispered softly, not minding that their eyes were meaningfully locked solely at each other, to which one would think both boys had been in love with one another—and yet, they were not. Or, in other words, the feelings were never mutual.

But still silence stretched comfortably between the two lads.

"It's been so long." Yuuri started with no hesitations.

Of which resulted the blond to blink in wonderment. "What do you mean?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, I mean we haven't talked to each other for such a long time already." The latter replied as he found his own hand running through his raven locks. "It's getting kind of lonely… since, you know…"

_Lonely… Yuuri? You, of all people, were lonely? _"I apologize," Wolfram quietly stated as he landed his sights to the wall opposite of them. "There's a lot to do, now that my duties lie with the military. Expeditions, security and whatnots are taking most of my supposed free time."

Yuuri nodded with a forlorn expression as he, too, set his gaze onto the empty wall in front of them—he wondered for a moment what exactly Wolfram found interesting about the crimson cemented space. There was nothing, at all, intriguing about the sheer clearness of it, aside from their shadows that reflected upon it.

Their silhouettes sat closely to each other—it did not fail to escape the young king's attention. And, for oddest of reasons, it felt nice.

"Whoa, that's a lot to do, alright." The double black said, trying to relax into his position. "Boy, what I'd do to get the old times back, when we used to just hang around each other." He continued with a pause, "We've never really been apart until we ended our… uh, _that._"

_Even if it ended, _"Like I said, Yuuri, my duties are with the army now. Sorry." _He still can't acknowledge our engagement. Let alone say it. _

Yuuri remained silent for a short while, not knowing what to say next. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"I have a question," Wolfram suddenly asked—causing his companion to open his eyes, once again looking at the wall before them. "Why did you ask me to help you," Came the blond's straight question. "Instead of Weller?"

"Huh?" Blackened orbs widened as the king looked towards the prince. "What do you mean?"

And then, the said prince snorted. "Tell the truth, Wimp."

"Not a wimp—"

"—Wimp."

"NOT. A. WIMP."

"Then answer my question." The demon taunted, looking as aggravated as ever. "_Wimp_."

Yuuri frowned, gritting his teeth in friendly annoyance (one he had stopped doing for so long.) "Fine already," He almost growled out. "I mi—"

"—there you are!" Another voice boomed the halls along with the tapping of high-heeled shoes and another of childish flats. "We were looking everywhere for you!"

"Katarina! Greta!" The monarch laughed, quickly forgetting all about answering the question that had been earlier asked as he stood up to greet the two girls that rushed their way towards him with their loving smiles.

"Lady Katarina and I found discovered a new batch of flowers, Daddy!" The youngest of the group bounced as she pulled her father away to the direction she and the other woman came from. "Come on! I want to show you! Hurry!"

"Alright, alright," The demon king laughed a bit louder, allowing himself to be pulled by the ecstatic young lass before him. "Let's go. Come one, Katarina." The raven monarch called towards his fiancé.

"Of course." The red headed female smiled, following a few steps behind.

In a matter of seconds, they were gone. And in a matter of seconds, one certain blond prince of beauty and flames had been forgotten. There were no offers of invitation. No one had even turned to look at him as he watched them. Not the new castle occupant, not Yuuri and certainly not Greta. He, in a matter of seconds, became invisible.

Thus, all Wolfram von Bielefeld could do, at that point, was stand up and leave the premises—opposite of the way Yuuri had parted for, with all hopes he would soon find someone or something that needed him for the time being.

And it came.

Someone needed him.

Someone called for his name, "Wolfram!"

The prince turned to the direction of which someone called from. His expression was calm—more like a disturbingly serene picture that the fire wielder rarely held. "Gwendal." He greeted with a curt nod for respect.

The older man nodded back as he crossed his arms, a gesture that had never meant any good to anyone—"We need to talk." Gwendal spoke sternly while he turned his back and walked off to a distance silently.

And no further words were needed in order for the younger to follow.

**To Be Continued**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** I won't give up on this fiction, and on 777th as well (though I'm taking time on that since the story is complex,) so don't worry.

**Question:** Why is Greta ignoring Wolfram?

**Answer:** Although Greta is open, keep in mind that she is still a child. Think about it, she's a kid and no matter how open a child is, s/he tends to ignore a person or toy when they find something or someone else that interests them more. So don't hate her, since I just tried to base her personality off of some children I've babysat in the past.

**-.-.-**

Three seats remained empty (though the third one had been excusable, since it was Lady Cecile's) as the first course of the dinner was being served in silence. The maids went about their business, rounding the table as they placed bowls of soup in front of the occupants with empty expressions—not one of them, especially the three usually noisy ones, made a sound since their excitement dispersed into nothingness.

And yet, Yuuri did not care.

"I'm starved!" He happily cheered with a wide smile. "Let's eat!"

Conrad sighed, sitting between empty chairs—"I understand your disposition, Yuuri," He started carefully as he slowly landed his sights on his godson. "However, Gwendal and Wolfram are still not here yet."

"Eh?!" Greta's eyes lit in excitement, "Papa's joining us tonight!" The young lass clapped happily. "I haven't seen him for days and days!" She cheered much like Yuuri had done earlier—as if what she spoke of was the truth, though… the young princess may have just been too preoccupied to notice her second father.

Katarina, who sat in Wolfram's previous spot, shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the fire prince's name. It was not that she did not like him; it was just… _awkward_ when the blond was around—or maybe, it had been the guilt. The woman knew that she took someone important away from the prince.

"Katarina?" Yuuri called gently as he placed his hand on top of his lady's, which had held tightly around the spork.

The red head merely looked up towards her _beloved_, "Y—yes?"

"Don't worry about Wolfram," The double black wore a calming grin. "I know he's sort of… _rough_, but he's a great guy once you get to know him."

"I know… it's just that…"

Her words drifted off, Conrad could no longer hear nor watch the sweetness of their conversation. He, at that moment, understood why Wolfram chose to stay out of the castle grounds. He felt his baby brother's pain—even when the brunet supported the king as well, he could not help but sympathize with the latter party.

All Conrad could do was look down at his soup and watch his reflection instead.

"Ah," Gunter dreamily sighed in his seat after he watched the moment that played out before them, "His Majesty's love is so pure…!" His whisper, only for the king's godfather to hear.

Who, in turn, kept his silence.

"I can _not _stay put and be… be… I can't stay like this!" A familiar voice hissed behind the doorway—said voice was obviously unhappy. "I won't accept!"

At that, everyone in the dining hall turned towards the enormous wooden double doors with expectant faces. They heard it again, the irrational and bratty voice that had long since graced the halls of the palace.

"He's here." Yuuri chuckled as he felt his fiancé's hand stiffen within his.

The doors slowly pushed open as another familiar voice resounded the area, "It is not a request, Wolfram." The person grunted in annoyance, "It's an order."

"Looks like Gwendal's with him." Conrad blinked in the sight of his older brother appearing through the opening doors with his signature frown that was never good for him, or for anyone else—

Something was up.

"_What_?!" Wolfram hissed for the second time as he followed the older man's steps.

"You heard me." The taller of the newly entered two closed his eyes as he folded his arms in the finality of the decision.

And the blond stood still, his feet had been glued onto the ground in defiance of the earth-wielding Commander-in-Chief. His hands, balled into tightened fists—his knuckles, whiter than the usual skin color that the third prince had. "I… I will not obliged and will still perform—"

"—your condition does not follow your will power!" Gwendal's voice easily boomed the area as he stopped and glared down to his stubborn sibling. "Now, obey or I _will _tell the king of your situation."

Then, there was a tensioned pause—everyone in the dining hall watched silently from the eldest son to the youngest. All of them did not understand a thing, all… except for Conrad, who carried an unreadable expression.

"…uh," Yuuri gulped down, knowing he had been mentioned during the argument, "We've been waiting for you guys!" He managed to exclaim with his kind smile stretched upon his teenage face. "Especially you, Wolf!"

Wolfram snorted. An obvious sign of his current anger. "I do not see what is so special of my joining you for dinner." The prince's venomous voice filled the air as he walked past the man clad in green and sat between Gunter and Conrad.

"But it _is_ special, papa!" Greta bounced in her seat, cutting off Gunter before he could even argue with the fire demon. "I haven't seen you for days! You're too busy!" The youngest smiled sentimentally towards her second father.

_I was around at some point… you just didn't __**notice**__. _"Sorry about that." The blond sighed in the sheer exhaustion of apologizing for being '_too_ busy' to care. With that, he leaned his back onto the cushion exteriors of the supposedly comfortable chair.

"Well then," Gwendal cut in a firm manner as he sat. "There will be a lot of time for you two to spend." He said strictly directing it to the seething blond who easily dug his spoon into the bowl—like he was stabbing it.

"Really?!" The youngest bounced on her seat in excitement, her eyes glittered in delight. "Then Papa can play with Daddy, Lady Katarina and I!" She exclaimed, "Like a happy family."

_A happy family consists of one mother and __**one **__father_, Wolfram bitterly thought as he found the soup much more interesting than anything else around at that moment. "I'm not sure about that, Greta." _You'll just leave me out once we start __**playing**_.

"But Uncle Gwendal said—"

"Princess," The crimson-headed woman cooed from the child's side. "We can't force Lord Wolfram to do such thing." She smiled worriedly, "He's a busy man."

Greta pouted, "…but… Papa…"

Wolfram secretly frowned—_she didn't have to do that! _"I'll try to squeeze in a schedule, alright?" The prince forced out of his lips, still finding the soup ever more intriguing.

"Okay…" The pout did not disappear from the princess' face as she looked down onto the warm watery substance as well—

"Cheer up," Katarina spoke once again, adding more foulness to the emerald lad's ever so unpleasant mood. "He _did _say he'll try, right?"

Not liking the current situation, all the more did the third prince's frown deepened—only to be noticed by the brunet beside him, who merely decided to taste the soup that had been presented before him for the longest of minutes.

Gwendal, as well, noticed the displeased expression that graced his youngest brother's face. By all means, he understood that said brother was going through a tough transition period. But there was nothing he could do. And the earth wielder could not help but feel useless—helpless.

Yuuri, on the other hand, (like Greta and Gunter,) was clueless. But it was usual for the inhabitants of Blood Pledge Castle. After all, the raven ruler had been far too young to understand anything as of yet.

Thus, wearing an innocent smile, he decidedly carried a light conversation with his fiancé, who had returned a loving smile as she replied back.

…occasionally giggling—to which, secretly annoyed a certain blond demon more.

In silence (of the other half of the table,) dinner ensued…

…and for some span of time, during the brief pauses of the couple's conversation, only the metallic _clangs_ of the silverware could be heard throughout the dining hall.

Katarina huffed, looking from Wolfram to Yuuri, who caught her worried gaze—"So, uhm… Lord Wolfram?" Her voice squeaked out just as the fire wielder dipped the spoon into the bowl before him.

"Yes?" He answered while lady gulped down—the emerald soldier knew she was trying to _befriend_ him… for Yuuri's sake.

"Uh, I… uh," The red head shot her blue eyes towards the blackened ones of the young king. Finding the reassurance, she shifted her_ friendly_ sights back to the youngest prince. "I heard you've been off to quite a lot of expeditions lately. It must be tough."

"It is." Wolfram easily answered, sipping the soup off the spoon.

"Y…you must be tired."

"Not really."

"I… see…"

Yuuri blinked, just as the rest of the table occupants did. He knew, like everyone else, that the conversation between Katarina and Wolfram was becoming more and more awkward every time a response had escaped one or another's lips.

"I was wondering, now you have the time to rest," The crimson woman smiled _too_ enthusiastically for her own sake. "If you would like to join us sometime, during _our_ picnics."

_Those picnics used to be __**ours**__—Greta's, Yuuri's and mine's. _"Like I've said before, I'll try." Jade colored eyes closed ever slowly as they tried to hide the anger that became obvious even through the lack of radiance of the golden boy's orbs. "Though I warn you not to expect my presence."

"O—oh." The lady leaned back, knowing she failed to establish anything with the king's former fiancé. "Alright then." She breathed with disappointment—

—which Yuuri had easily read, "Aw, Wolf, don't be a spoil-sport!" The double black warned in an attempt to save his fiancé's efforts.

"It's better to spoil the '_sport_' now," Wolfram snappily replied with his eyes still closed, "Than to make people expect."

Conrad, just as Gwendal had, turned towards the blond.

"Well then," The young monarch frowned. "If you won't come, then I order to attend tomorrow's picnic." He said strictly with authority.

Finally calmed (in a way,) Wolfram opened his eyes as he breathed out a heavy gust of air—he was becoming even more tired, the fatigue caught up with him. And even if he wanted to, the prince could no longer find the strength to argue with the other.

With that, the fire mazoku nodded in forced compliance.

"Yuuri," Conrad started out in his brother's defense. "I don't think tomorrow would be a good idea. He just got back from his duties and…"

"And all the more he needs a picnic." The double black royalty stubbornly responded. "It'll help him relax."

"Your Highness, I understand your concern for my brother," Gwendal, too, spoke for the golden soldier—he saw it as the only way he could help at the moment. "However, he is not allowed outside of the castle walls."

"Who said anything about going outside the castle walls?" Yuuri stated firmly. "Anyway, it's still an order and Wolfram will have to follow, whether he likes it or not."

"Yuuri," Katarina called. "Don't force him on behalf of me—"

"FINE." Wolfram exclaimed, cutting the red head off. "Fine, I'll go." He said as he stood. "Excuse me. I'm exhausted from today's events."

Gunter blinked after keeping his silence for so long. "…oh, dear…" The advisor's lips traced out, watching the unusually calmed demon take his leave. The lilac man's words had spoken for the emerald royalty's brothers, who stayed quiet while they watched their baby brother disappear through the double doors.

"Does that mean Papa will join us tomorrow?" Greta's eyes glistened in bliss as she pulled onto Katarina's sleeve.

The woman looked towards her fiancé before answering the little girl, "I… guess so."

Yuuri, not noticing that the crimson lass stared at him, released a small huff. His eyes, glued solely at the doors. He, in someway, hoped for the blond to return… even when he knew that they would eventually meet once more the next day.

…there was something about the blond's retreating back made the king uncomfortable.

**-.-.-**

It was a beautiful day, anyone could easily admit to that. After all, the sky was blue and the wind blew just right. The flowers were abloom and the plants were greener than the usual. The birds chirped and the animals were lively. Truly, the day was of beauty.

However a beautiful day does not necessarily mean a good day.

"…like a family… huh?" Wolfram grunted as he kept himself busy by sitting on the fountain ledge, trying to divert his attention from Lady Katarina and Greta (who found a butterfly amusing,) to the warm and welcomed breeze that brushed his blond locks back.

Yet the air did little to lighten up the fire lad's mood—that rooted and grew from the previous day's ordeal…

…and it only worsened when he was openly ignored as he entered and forcibly joined the 'picnic' by his _daughter _and the crimson woman, who looked like a couple of dolts chasing after a pitiful insect.

Wolfram's time was being wasted.

"Wolfram," A voice called from his left. Yuuri's. "About yesterday… I wanted to apologize. Katarina's right, I shouldn't have pushed you into joining us. You just got back and all…"

"Your words are my law. Either way, I'd end up being around you." The prince dryly replied as he moved a couple of inches to the right—allowing his king to sit beside him with a small gap in between their bodies.

Yuuri frowned, "But still," He mumbled. "Gwendal looked like he was ready to bite off my head last night… for what I did."

"My brother always looks like he's ready to bite off anyone's head." Wolfram chuckled, dispelling the eerie feeling of the atmosphere. "But he never does so."

At that, the monarch laughed as well.

"Hey…" Yuuri coughed just when his laughter ended. "Can we talk… again?"

"Aren't we talking now?" The blond's eyebrow rose skeptically.

"Not _this _kind." The double black muttered quickly, shifting his gaze towards the two girls that ran around the castle garden—Wolfram's sights followed as well, and as unhappy as he was… there had been no choice.

He never did have any choice from the very start.

The golden mazoku sighed in defeat, "Alright."

Yuuri's eyes glittered in gratitude as his lips stretched into a wide smile, shooting it towards Wolfram. "Thank you." The king humbly nodded his head. "But let's talk somewhere else other than here."

"W—where—" And the jade royalty's question had been cut when he was pulled away by the wrist.

Unbeknownst to both males, Katarina silently watched them leave from the distance. Her earlier smile faded into a thin line. Her earlier happy eyes became emotionless, forgetting Greta and the butterfly that had caught her amusement.

**-.-.-**

"I take it back," Wolfram grumbled when his feet trudged through the grassy, weed-filled grounds below him. "Gwendal _will _bite your head off."

"Don't joke like that." Yuuri nervously released his laughter as he led the blond through the forest that stood not far behind the palace. "It might come true."

A snort soon resounded from the double black's back. "Oh, it will. When he finds out _you _took me _outside _the castle grounds." The fire-wielding demon flatly confessed with no remorse or whatsoever. "I mean, _surely_, you've heard I'm on house arrest…"

Black orbs blinked, realizing something he had missed to question the night before. With that, he turned his head to his companion with his innocent and childlike expression. It was obvious that the demon king had something in mind. There was no need for any hints.

"I never got to ask you last night," The king readied to ask. "But why exactly are you under house arrest?"

At that, Wolfram stiffened. His feet firmly set onto the ground. "It's nothing serious."

"But—"

"How did you discover this pathway?" The latter suddenly questioned, looking away. "It needs to be secured as soon as possible."

Yuuri frowned, the abrupt change in topic bothered him… yet, "Katarina found it," The king decided to drop the present issue as he turned to the direction of which they had earlier came from. "The other day."

"She did, didn't she…?" _A clever woman._ Wolfram frowned. His tone, silent and deadly.

"You don't trust her, do you?" The king had brought up upon hearing the way the latter had spoken, earning him the golden prince's attention.

"Eh?" Wolfram's eyes blinked—the topic changed again. Suddenly.

"The way you talk to her, the way you treat her." The monarch stated firmly as he crossed his arms in signal of authority. "You _really _don't like her at all."

"What the hell are you talking about?" The full demon bit back.

"It's obvious."

Emerald sharply glared towards the fearless blackened orbs of his king—"If you're talking about last night, then I'm sorry." He snapped, "I was caught up in my own—"

"I love her." The younger cut in.

_I know. _"Yuuri—"

"No matter what you or anyone else says!"

_I know. _"Yuuri—"

"Everyone else doesn't trust her. But I love her… and…"

_I know. _"Yuuri—" _Don't tell me that. Tell __**her**__._

Raven eyes flared in motivation. "…I love her and no one will stop me from marrying her!"

"Shut up and listen!" The blond's fists clenched tightly as he yelled. "Is _this _what you wanted to talk about?! The possibility that we might not approve?" Wolfram's glare sharpened. "_We _never said we didn't like the woman!" His voice rose in anger. "And don't you dare yell at me after asking for _my_ help on how to propose to her, you idiot! If _I_ didn't like her, do you think I would've agreed to help you out on your proposal?! Let alone break off our engagement?!" _I hate her. But I gave up for your happiness._

And Yuuri, the demon king, was stunned. His eyes widened. His mouth hung open in the shape of an 'o'. So soon and very easily did he become guilty, the monarchy leader wanted to speak but no useful words of remorse came to mind…

"Wolfram…" Yuuri whispered in his guilt, realizing his 'mistake' in such awful accusations.

But Wolfram did not or chose not to listen as he turned to walk back to the direction of Blood Pledge—he could not take anymore or anything else. The stress was rearing itself up his spine once more.

_Augh, just when I thought I'm well off. _The third prince mentally groaned towards the oncoming headache. _Damn. _

"Wolf, wait!" The king called again. "I—I'm sorry, hey!" He called out, his foot taking one step forward to follow the retreating blond. "Wolf—" One more step had been taken…

…a twig snapped.

Wolfram stopped in his tracks, even with his migraine. _Of all the time in world—_he winced. "Wimp." The demon's head whipped back towards his companion. He, then, assumed the commanding role as his voice rang in authority. "Run."

**To Be Continued**

**Author's Note/s: **Forgive me for the crappy chapter. I'm not really good with longs ones… ;3; No killing please!


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **I have returned! For the meantime… aheeheehee – sorry, college has been quite demanding lately. Balancing everything can prove to be very difficult.

**-.-.-**

It was crowded. The entrance to which Yuuri – in his demon king form – strode into in a manner quite discomforting for the castle inhabitants had been swarmed tightly by people whose expressions were, for that moment, unfathomable. Yet, the king knew they could not be blamed. The sight of his entering had been all but delightful.

In fact, it was the opposite.

It had been dreadful.

"Your Highness!" Gwendal greeted as he feigned calmness upon the view before him. He gulped, "If it is not too much to ask at the moment, could you please tell me what happened?"

At that slightly pleading request, the raven monarch nodded. "I ask for your forgiveness," The king started with the most sincere tone. "I admit to my faults. Upon my insistence, Wolfram unwillingly accompanied me for stroll at the newly discovered forest path." Yuuri frowned, eyeing the blond in his arms.

The usually fiery blond was unconscious and, above all else, injured. Wolfram had bled from the wound that settled on the side of his abdomen.

"It was an ambush." The demon king ended – the guilt in his face, as clear as the sky.

Gwendal, even with the respect for his king, could only return him a frown. "Very well," He answered exasperatedly. "GUARDS," His voice suddenly roared. "SURVEY THIS FOREST PATH, CLOSE IT DOWN RIGHT AFTER! MEDICS, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR; GET LORD VON BIELEFELD TO THE INFIRMARY. **NOW**! GISELA!"

And from that one familiar roar, everyone else scurried about. The soldiers, running in a platoon towards the forest path's direction as the medics took Wolfram away from their lord. Thus, in an awkward turn of events, leaving the raven man and his tactician next to alone.

"I expect full report later." The older of them crossed his arms.

The monarch could only nod.

"Yuu – I mean, Your Highness!" On cue, Katarina entered the scene, gracing her features were the looks of fear and worry as she ran towards her fiancé. "Are you alright?" She questioned Yuuri, who still embodied his demon counterpart. "Your Highness?" The red head cooed once more as she attempted to touch the royal's cheek.

Yet, upon the feeling the woman's hand on his face, the demon – all too suddenly – morphed back into his original self. His blue glow resonated brightly as black eyes closed slowly, having his last view of Gwendal's irritated expression.

"Lady Katarina," The eldest coughed almost too menacingly. "Please be sure to inform and remind His Highness to meet me in my office once he has fully rested."

"Y – yes."

**-.-.-**

Conrad sighed as he continued to sit beside his youngest brother's bed. His eyes, looking forlornly at the state Wolfram was in. "Wolf…" He whispered, pushing a few of the fiery lad's golden strands away from his angelically pale face.

The brunet could not help but smile.

It had been long since he last saw him with a serene expression.

"At least we actually got him to rest," Gisela laughed lightly as she placed a damp cloth on the fire wielder's forehead. "I would heal him, but a peaceful version of Wolfram is too rare to pass up." The green haired healer continued.

"You're right." Conrad chuckled, looking back towards the physician. "This could very well be a blessing in disguise."

"Yes." Gisela nodded in agreement. "And, just maybe, if we let Wolfram deal with this injury and fever, he may actually get some time to reflect for himself. He needs it." Her emerald orbs ventured towards the lone unconscious being in the room. "Well then, I should take my leave." And with that, the green lass took her chance for an exit.

The human prince could only watch as she disappeared through the double doors of Wolfram's room before eyeing the fiery blond once more. An hour had passed since the unpleasant return of both the king and the fire prince to the castle. It had been a few minutes since they had decided to move the sleeping young man back into the sanctities of his very room. However, no matter how long the minutes were or how short, Conrad was only glad that his baby brother returned alive, if not safe.

"Do me a favor and rest for a while."

"How is he?" And then Gwendal entered.

"The wound was deep, but he's fine now. He has a fever though." Conrad answered as he stood in respect for the eldest male of their family. "Although Gisela refuses to heal him in hopes that Wolfram would actually stay put."

The gray haired male could only nod. "Just as it should be."

"How was the meeting with Yuuri?" The younger inquired as he turned towards his brother.

"He is resting at the moment. I've yet to speak with him." The earth wielder's expression darkened. "However, I talked to the guards after their investigation. Bandits ambushed them. Apparently, that path was part of a scheme to raid the castle."

"Something tells me that was not the only issue you've discussed."

A sigh escaped the latter's lips.

"Gwendal?" Conrad calmly called as his hands rested on his hips.

"…I asked them to ban His Highness from entering Wolfram's quarters." The tactician admitted with very little signs of regret. "At least, for the time being while he's resting and setting himself straight."

Skeptical brow rose from the former's face, silently questioning the other's course of action.

"It may perhaps be a bit too personal, but His Highness… as the cause of Wolfram's pain," The older male softly continued as he moved closer to the youngest prince's bed, looking at him with a rare and gentle expression. Wolfram, for all he was worth, was a treasure of their family and he had intended to protect him the best way possible. "I do not want him near our brother. For now."

Conrad could only, too, look at the view again of the unconscious golden lad.

"I understand."

**To Be Continued**

**Author's Note: **I've been itching to write a little brotherly love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes:** I am back! Heehee. Yuuram has a special hold on me and I just cannot let go of this pairing. However, I love Wolfram more than I will ever love Yuuri because of reasons. Nonetheless, I will try my best to be unbiased for the development of all characters involved.

Also, **forgive the impending mistakes**. I haven't written anything creative lately. Haha.

**-.-.-**

Yuuri winced as he sat up, finally regaining consciousness after what seemed like an entire day's worth of sleep. "What happened…?" The raven king questioned slowly as he used a hand to hold onto his throbbing head. His eyes were shut tightly in pain.

"Thank goodness you're awake," Katarina's voice resounded from his side. "You've been asleep the entire evening. How are you?" The young woman doted as she passed the monarch a glass of clear water along with what seemed to be New Makoku's version of painkillers.

"I'm fine now, thank you," Yuuri smiled at his fiancé, taking the glass from the woman's hands. "I… just barely remember…augh…" His attempt to continue halted at the suddenness of the pain that rushed to his head.

Katarina frowned, her blue orbs casted towards the monarch who continued to sit on his bed.

"Perhaps I should inform Lord von Voltaire that you're not well enough to meet with him yet." The crimson headed woman sighed with a worried expression gracing her face. "You don't seem fine to me."

"Gwendal? What does Gwe—" Black eyes widened.

At that point, Yuuri Shibuya – the ruler of New Makoku – realized or, rather, remembered the events that had transpired earlier. He remembered the heat that emitted from Wolfram's flame as it danced to the will of its wielder. He remembered the exchange of attacks, unknown people attempting to bring down the proud fire mazoku that Wolfram was. He also remembered, quite clearly in vivid red hues, Wolfram's blood spraying out from his side just when an unknown arrow poked through his clothes and into his skin.

The king could only, in that moment, jump out of his bed and race out of the confines of the royal bedroom.

"Wait, Yuuri—!"

Despite his own headaches and despite a very worried fiancé.

However, none of that mattered – at least not then and there. All Yuuri wanted was to see his supposed best friend alive, if not well. Thus, regardless of wearing nothing more than his blue pyjamas and having to race the halls of the castle without shoes, he ran. And he ran with Wolfram being his sole purpose, without even noticing that beyond the enormous castle windows, fireflies one-by-one slowly graced the evening New Makoku sky.

"Your Majesty!" A voice called out from one of the rooms the king passed.

Coming to a halt upon hearing his title, Yuuri turned to see who called out to him. At the back of his mind, he knew that voice. It was the coldness of the said voice that the monarch was not quite familiar with. He was, undoubtedly, nervous.

"Conrad…" Yuuri managed to say, without correcting the way he was addressed.

He was right. The brunet soldier – his godfather – stood right by mahogany double doors. The familiar entrance to a colder place with an even colder occupant: Gwendal's office.

Conrad, whose hands rested down with military tension on his sides, took a step away from the doors. His face was serene; however, his own aura emitted something else. The young demon king stood straight and watched as his godfather gestured towards the double doors with no more than a tilt of his head. Still, Conrad's lips were set in a thin line.

"Gwendal wishes to speak with you."

The raven swallowed what was left not only of his courage but also the throbbing pain in his head. "I want to see Wolfram—"

"—Now."

"…but—"

"Your Majesty."

**-.-.-**

Wolfram was sitting upright in his more masculine pyjamas as his eyes slowly ran over the words that were presented before them. His elbow rested on the windowsill beside his bed and the back of his hand supported his chin. His lips, still as he mentally recited what the book on his lap had to say. As calm as the golden boy seemed to be, reading the book his brothers forced onto him the moment he woke up, the mazoku fought back every urge to set the entire castle aflame. Yet, it was also partially done in avoidance of the impending pain his illness brought.

Nonetheless, Wolfram von Bielefeld was not in his best of moods.

He did not even spare a look outside the window, where few fireflies played amongst the darkness.

"Come in," the prince monotonously ordered even before the knocks could even land on his wooden bedroom door. "And shut the door once you enter."

Once opened, Cecile pouted as she placed her hands rapidly onto her hips. "Wolfie, you don't have to sound so cruel." The woman complained as she let the maids enter to set her son's food on the round table found at the center of his room. "Thank you," she nodded to the attendants while they exited without forgetting to close the door behind the former demon queen.

"Mother." It was a cold greeting – and Wolfram did not even take time to look up at Cecile. He knew it was not meant to be addressed to a mother who, in her own way, meant well most of the time. But he could not help but be as inexpressive as he could be.

"I haven't seen you _this_ angry in such a long time." The blonde sighed, making her way towards her youngest son's bed. "Is this because of your bed arrest," Cecile continued, choosing her words carefully as she chose a spot on the bed to sit on. "Or your battle earlier," she cooed eyeing the way Wolfram had not reacted. "Or… is it because of His Majesty?"

At those final words, Wolfram briefly stopped. His green eyes attempted to return to concentration just when he could not help but wear slight frown. Cecile had hit the target, both mother and son knew it.

Sometimes, it was amazing how the former demon queen could become a true-blue mother.

Nevertheless, Wolfram managed to reply, "I thought you were on a cruise."

"My son needs me," the golden lady smiled.

"Funny how you weren't there the rest of the time I did."

Then there was a brief pause once more.

Another sigh escaped Cecile's lips as her own green eyes landed on the words written darkly on the book her child had been reading. It was her turn to frown as she disapproved the material in his hands. "Wolfie," she started. "I know you love that book, but why must you love ones with sad endings?"

**-.-.-**

_Those who are permitted to visit Lord von Bielefeld are family, including Greta, the maids, and the medic_. Gwendal's harsh roar echoed in the king's mind as he decided to walk back towards the direction of his room. Of course, with Conrad in tow in order to reassure the eldest of the siblings that Yuuri would not try anything of the opposite. _You are not allowed to be __**anywhere**__ near Lord von Bielefeld until I say so. _

The raven teen frowned.

_He is too ill for anyone's own good, _Grewndal growled in Yuuri's thoughts once more. And when he had offered to help in Wolfram's ailment, worried of why the Gisela could not do anything, Yuuri remembered the loud bang upon the impact of Gwendal's fists on the hard wooden surface of his table. _NO! YOU ARE NOT TO TOUCH HIM, SPEAK TO HIM, AND LET ALONE, __**SEE **__HIM. _

The monarch had to admit, Gwendal von Voltaire was a terrifying man. Yet, he could not get himself to comprehend where the anger came from. Although he was scolded for bringing Wolfram out of his arrest, Yuuri knew there was an underlying reason.

There was something off.

"He's only looking out for Wolfram," Conrad suddenly started, escorting his godchild through the castle. "I hope you understand that."

Yuuri nodded.

"Also, we have to do what we can to get Wolfram to stay put." The brunet continued, "It's cruel, but it's the only way at this point. He needs rest as much as his men do as well."

With another nod, Yuuri replied: "I just don't understand why I'm not allowed to see him." He said with his black eyes directed nowhere else but the marbled floor beneath his feet.

Conrad breathed in deeply, trying to create a balance between his loyalty to his godchild and his love for his younger brother. He knew, from there on, that having such deep connections with Yuuri and Wolfram placed him in a difficult position. The he breathed out.

"You are my king and Wolfram is my brother. It is best to keep the both of you apart for now." The brunet calmly stated as they reached the entrance of Yuuri's room. It was a vague statement to be released, and Conrad was sure Yuuri would not understand what he had just said. "Lady Katarina has been by your bedside the whole day," he started once more, pushing one of the double doors open. "Comfort her, Yuuri, instead of rushing out all too suddenly. She's been worried about you." And with that, the older of two disappeared behind the doors just when the younger had entered.

"Yuuri!" Katarina stood up from the chair she had sat on. "Thank goodness! I was worried."

Black eyes blinked towards the crimson woman – "Sorry." Yuuri admitted softly, watching Katarina walk towards him gracefully. "Sorry I ran out just like that… it's just that it's my fault Wolfram's—"

"Sh." The crimson haired lass shook her head quite gently as she rested her hand on the king's cheek. Looking at him, "It's fine, and it's not your fault." Katarina smiled softly, "No one knew of the danger." Dropping her hand back to her side, she maintained the connection between her blue eyes with Yuuri's black ones. "How was Lord Wolfram?"

"They won't let me see him…"

"…I'm sorry to hear that," Katarina commented, taking Yuuri by his hands as she wished to pull him closer to the bed. "We should resume worrying about that in the morning. For now, get some rest. It has been an eventful day."

"No," Yuuri replied softly, planting a kiss on Katarina's cheek, "Head to bed first. Head to bed without me, I have to see my best friend whether they like it or not." With that, once more, the young king bolted out of his room.

Leaving, again, a worried fiancé.

**-.-.-**

Wolfram frowned, _Wolfram, _he recalled the moments that had happened minutes ago. Lady Cecile, his mother who sat on his bed, brushed away his golden locks from his princely face as she forced the book away from his hold. _You can never find true love if you do not set yourself free._ Her advice was then accompanied by a kiss which she planted on his forehead before she stood to leave. _Goodnight, I love you._

It was – perhaps – a mere ten-minute visit. However, a visit from his mother allowed Wolfram to calm down. At least, by a bit. With that, the prince turned to see the view outside his bedroom window. And, finally, Wolfram von Bielefeld was the first to see the full glow of the fireflies. His mother was right; he loved stories with sad endings. Momentarily, Wolfram wondered why, indeed, he allowed himself to fall into such a predicament.

However, the blond prince remained sharp as his attention turned to his door which slowly opened. His eyebrow, at that, rose – it was Yuuri Shibuya, his king, clad in his sleepwear. "Why must you defy Gwendal again?"

"Geez," the young king complained in a hushed tone as he closed Wolfram's bedroom door. "I just came to check how you are."

"I'm fine," Wolfram held back a snort, turning his attention back to the view he was watching. "Now leave before someone finds you here."

"Can't I use the 'king' card for this?" Yuuri complained as he grabbed a chair and pulled it beside his former fiancé's bed.

"Not when it's your fault why we're in this situation."

"Ouch." The raven lad winced before noticing the tiny glowing lights outside the window. His eyes grew in amazement. "Are those fireflies?! I've never seen ones from here!"

Without turning his head to meet his visitor's gaze, Wolfram merely nodded. "They frequent earth, huh?" He commented softly as he watched the soft orange glows fly around.

"Yeah, but they're greenish-yellowish or red over there. Weird, it's the first time I've seen them… here, I mean."

"They rarely come out. Almost never most of the time."

Then there was a pause, silence reigned over the room as the two calmly watched the insects fly around outside Wolfram's bedroom window. They were beautiful; the two had to confess internally. They looked like small fireballs, no bigger than a thumb.

"You like them, huh?" Yuuri was the first to speak as he glanced from the fireflies back to Wolfram.

Wolfram sighed, finally getting the nerve to face the king. His expression, still nonchalant. "Yes, you could say that." He smiled weakly before he elegantly grabbed onto his book. "Has Gunter ever told you about this one?" The prince asked, holding it up.

To which, Yuuri merely shook his head; it was a 'no.'

"It's about how fireflies came to be." Wolfram answered in a disappointed tone.

The king blinked twice in an attempt to decipher the way Wolfram had acted at that point. Right then and there, it dawned onto him: "As soon as you get well, we'll go see them outside!" Yuuri brightly suggested as if nothing was wrong.

"You're not allowed near me, remember?" The blond argued, "And wouldn't it be better to see them with Lady Katarina?"

"I'll use the 'king' card and order for it to happen." The latter grinned with an ignorant expression. "We'll see the fireflies together, I promise! With Katarina _and _Greta."

It was emerald eyes' turn to blink. However, although Wolfram was surprised as well as dumbfounded, Cecile's voice rang once more in the back of his mind: _set yourself free_. The prince, then, swallowed a lump down his throat.

Through a barely audible whisper, he said: "Let me go."

Yet he knew, full well, Yuuri did not hear him.

**To Be Continued**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **Hello! I'm back again. Thank you so much for never giving up on this story. I'm so happy! And don't worry; I won't give up on this story as well. I'll update it as much as I can until I finish it. Thank you so much, again! Read, enjoy, and review!

**-.-.-**

_Once, during the ages in which demons and men were separated, there lived a princess – a daughter of tribe of flames. She was as beautiful as her flames were graceful, and numerous demons have competed for her hand. However, the princess only had her eyes set on a man she would watch wandering in the forest during the darkness._

_Many times, the said man would walk the woods without any source of light and many times, he would almost cross the border that separated their races. Yet, although he was but a mere stranger to her just as he, himself, was not conscious of her existence, the princess could not bear the thought of his death. And so, every night, when the man would stumble into the forest, the princess would create small balls of flame and these balls would guide the man to safety. The princess, however, stayed hidden from his view._

_ This went on without a fail, and while the man was curious as to why he was guided by strange balls of light, he did not wonder beyond. But one day, the princess returned to her hiding spot behind the trees, severely wounded. She was tired; her color seemed to have been stripped away from her little-by-little. Nevertheless, she waited. The princess knew, undoubtedly, the man would be there just as he always would be. _

_And the man did arrive, just in time as well. _

_Unfortunately, the princess could not find the strength to summon anymore flames. With a blurry view of the man, the princess could only close her eyes and succumb to darkness. That night, to the man's disappointment, the balls of light never came. Nor did it come for him in the following evenings. _

_Until one night, the man came back once again, like he did every night. However, he aged over the years as mortal men had. The man knew it would be his last chance and he also knew there would be no change since the lights disappeared. Yet he still waited. And in his patience, balls of light slowly appeared one-by-one. The man smiled as the balls surrounded him, "Fireflies," he whispered to himself, watching them float brightly around him._

**-.-.-**

_I don't want to be a firefly…_

Wolfram frowned to himself as he closed the book. He was reading it again, for the fourth or fifth time. Setting the book down on the round table, he sighed. He was still under bed arrest (though he was capable of moving around his room) and he was bored. Three days, the blond was locked in for three day – what was he supposed to do?

Of course, aside from accommodating a certain king who snuck into his room every night.

"Papa!" The door flew open, catching the attention of the demon – it was Greta. "How are you?" The young brunette ran into her father's hold. "I'm sorry for not visiting you earlier!"

Wolfram smiled, "I'm fine, Greta." He said whispered, tightening his embrace around his daughter before kneeling down to her level. "What did I tell you about running _inside _the castle?" The demon asked, brushing few of the brown strands away from the little girl's face.

Greta pouted. "I know, but I missed you." She whispered, wrapping her arms around her father's neck once more.

Wolfram moved out from Greta's hold as he ushered her to a chair by the wooden table. "I'm sure Lady Katarina has been keeping you company." The blond chuckled as he, himself, took a seat in front of the child. His jade orbs – as happy as his soft laughter sounded – seemed dead. "Here, the maids brought me snacks, have some," the blond continued, offering a plate of biscuits.

"Did I do something bad, papa?"

Startled, the sad smile disappeared from the blond prince's face while Greta refused to touch the plate that settled in front of her.

"What made you ask that?"

"You don't play with me anymore, papa." Greta continued, looking deep into the green orbs of the man before her. "When you're in the castle you just stand in the corner or watch from far away but you never play with me anymore." It was obvious, the little girl fought back hard to hold her emotions intact. "You keep giving me to Lady Katarina, papa. Do you not want Greta anymore?" Greta's lips quivered as tears formed in the corner of her childish eyes.

Wolfram was still stunned – it had been long since she addressed herself as a different person. However, what surprised him more was that Greta knew all along that he had been around. Just not _near_. It amazed him how smart his daughter could be.

"Don't say that," the prince managed to speak finally, leaning forward to wipe the child's tears away. "I love you, Greta," he sighed in disappointment – Wolfram wanted to burn himself alive. How could he drag an innocent child into his personal affairs? "However, things are different now, and I hope you understand that. Yuuri will be married to Lady Katarina soon and you will have a mother. But I promise you, I'm keeping away not because I don't want you."

"Will Greta lose you?"

The blond shook his head slowly, wearing a reassuring smile to in order to soothe his child's fear. "Sit on my lap?" He asked before Greta jumped off her chair and made her way to Wolfram. Helping her on his lap, the brunette stayed comfortably in his arms. "You will never lose me, Greta." The prince whispered, earning him a warm smile from his daughter. "I will always be your papa."

With those words, jade eyes raised towards the glass doors that their chair faced. Beyond the balcony, his sight settled at the clear blue sky. Briefly, he wondered if Greta had seen the fireflies that filled the night for the past days, and if, as he remembered, Yuuri would fulfill his promise: that they would watch the same fireflies together. Or if he informed the child or if he forgot about it all together.

"Greta," Wolfram called softly, looking back down to his daughter. "Have you seen the fireflies lately?"

The brunette merely nodded.

"When I'm well, and if the fireflies are still there, would you like to see them with Yuuri and me?" The demon prince asked, consciously leaving out Katarina.

Greta's eyes widened – "YES!" She answered brightly.

Wolfram smiled.

_I don't want to be a firefly…_

**-.-.-**

Yuuri sighed – he was busy the entire day and it was already evening. Moreover, he left Katarina alone in their room once more. He was guilty for it. However, the king found himself unable to defy his need to see a certain demon prince. Perhaps, it was the heavier weight of the guilt of endangering Wolfram's life. As much as he should be concerned, he was _entirely _concerned.

Fortunately for him, he was engaged to an understanding woman. Katarina always overlooked what he lacked and understood all his mistakes. Yuuri was eternally thankful to have her in his life and have loved and be loved by her.

However, he knew who she was not.

Katarina was the voice of reason and the breath of fresh air. But when push came to shove, she was not Gwendal, who would offer him the practical things to do. She was not Conrad who gave him the wiser options. Lastly, she was not Wolfram, who shoved him even harder than anyone or any event could. Wolfram, to Yuuri, was the fuel to being the best king he could be.

Wolfram, to Yuuri, was his best friend.

Katarina fully understood that. Yuuri was grateful.

Finally, the double black lad halted in his steps. The king, then, hid behind the pillar as he peeked to see if the guard who stood by Wolfram's door was the same guard who strictly forbade from entering the prince's room or if it was the guard who allowed him to enter as long as it was his shift. He was new, and Yuuri knew that. Thus, it was easy enough to trick him unlike those who were veterans in the New Makoku military.

He had to admit it; there was _some_ good in manipulating people.

The young monarch smiled – it was the new guard. With that, he confidently walked towards the blond's bedroom door, nodding towards the new guard. "Hey, Wolf!" Yuuri greeted as he proceeded to open the wooden door.

"You're a little later than usual," Wolfram snorted, "What do you want now?"

Yuuri frowned, closing the door behind him before sitting in one of the free chairs in Wolfram's chamber. "I've been visiting you and you _always _greet me with that question." He argued, crossing his arms in annoyance. "Can't I just visit you because I _want _to?"

"I'm surprised Lady Katarina hasn't accused you of infidelity." The blond countered, seated on a chair by the same wooden table he shared with Greta earlier that day. This time, however, his back was turned against the glass doors that now revealed the New Makoku night sky.

"What's _that _supposed to mean?"

All that answered Yuuri was a raise of Wolfram's golden eyebrow and an even deeper frown. It was an expression which was usually followed by a hard smack at the back of his head. Had they been still engaged to each other; however, at that point it only meant Yuuri was incredibly naïve.

Then silenced followed.

And Yuuri could only look around the room – a place he grew accustomed to because of his secret visits. He noticed that for the past days, Wolfram was quite a minimalist: having only a bed by the window which was connected to the glass doors that led to the balcony. There was also a round table and its two matching chairs in the center, in the far corner, opposite of the bed; there was a bookshelf beside his closet which had a mirror attached to it. Nothing more and nothing less – personality-wise, it was impossible for Yuuri to realize that Wolfram was actually simple if he did not discover what was actually inside his room.

"I should have the guard report to Gwendal," Wolfram snorted again, snapping Yuuri's attention back to the person he originally planned to see.

"Don't do that!" Yuuri complained, almost falling off his seat.

"If you can't even hold a decent conversation with me, what's the point of this visit? You won't even answer me."

"Geez, sorry." Black eyes rolled. "What were you asking?"

"Are you going through the proposal?" The blond asked, barely eyeing his visitor as he decided to drink the tea that was on the table for quite some time.

"O – oh… uh, well," Yuuri paused for a while as he tried to remember what Gunter told him. "The state ball was moved to next month because of the… ambush." He sighed, "I'll ask Katarina then… I guess."

"Sorry."

"Why?"

"It's partially my fault. Although majority was yours."

The king huffed, "You really aren't gonna let me off easily, huh, Wolf?"

"Not at all." Was Wolfram's flat answer…

…without noticing that the fireflies started glowing from behind him – opposed to Yuuri, who once more, kept quiet. It amazed the king how Wolfram seemed fitting with the fireflies that drifted outside in the night sky. The small balls with hues of orange were bright enough to match the eyes of the demon in front of him.

Although Yuuri barely admitted to it, Wolfram von Bielefeld was an astonishing sight.

Wolfram, on the other hand, crossed his arms and remained unaware of the fireflies outside the windows. "You're not answering me again… Gua—"

"The fireflies are out again." Yuuri answered, conscious of Wolfram's implicit threat to throw him out. "Look, they're plenty more than other nights."

The prince, on his part, could only turn his head slightly. And form the corner of his eye, he confirmed what Yuuri claimed. Indeed, compared to the other nights when the king visited, there were more of the glowing insects that particular night. Not that it bothered him as much. At least, not anymore.

"I asked Gunter about the legend." Yuuri started once more, reaching out for the book nestled on top of the table. Flipping through it, he said, "I asked him… because you seemed to really like fireflies… I wanted to understand." The king confessed his thoughts as he looked at the blond who merely shot him an inquisitive glance.

"Understand what?" The prince answered.

"Why you love fireflies so much," The raven lad replied back as the book stayed in his hold. "And then I heard the story, I understood why – it was a legend from first fire demons, right?"

Wolfram kept quiet.

"I couldn't help but love the fireflies too," Yuuri laughed awkwardly, "It was… nice… how the princess could love someone who never knew she existed. That man in the story was lucky to have someone like her protecting him like that…" A pause came as Yuuri turned and looked at the final page of the book and as Wolfram rested his chin on the back of his laced hands. "It's just sad, though… to love someone who never knew you even until the very end."

"You surprise me, wimp." The prince chuckled lightly, "You do have a brain."

"Can you take me seriously?"

Wolfram lightly laughed once more, "Where did that realization come from?"

Yuuri shrugged, secretly enjoying how his companion laughed – "I don't know, I guess when Gunter was telling me the story, I started to think about how much I wanted the man to look for the princess in the dark or how much I wanted the princess to show herself." The king sighed, "Then I thought: when I love someone, I don't want to be like the princess… that when I love someone I will show her and be proud of her… or something like that." He ended, raising his eyes to meet Wolfram's own.

The prince, however, upon hearing everything could only force himself to smile. Whether the sadness behind that smile was noticeable to the king or not, Wolfram did not mind.

"Lady Katarina is lucky to have you." The demon commented, turning his sight back to the fireflies outside.

"I hope you're right." Yuuri laughed in embarrassment after everything he had shared. His own eyes, shifting back to book, he repeated to himself: "I hope you're right."

"Hey, Yuuri," Wolfram called out, without feeling the need to see how Yuuri could have reacted to the way his name was called for the first time in so long. "Let's watch the fireflies tomorrow with Greta. As you promised."

"Y – yes! Yes, of course! I did promise, right?"

"_Without _Lady Katarina."

**To Be Continued**


	8. Chapter 8

Gwendal frowned as he set down his pen, ceasing to sign the papers that piled on the table in front of him. He did not understand what was happening. His youngest brother, Wolfram von Bielefeld, who suffered almost a week's worth of fever, was sitting in front of his desk without a care as he did not give any upon defying his arrest.

"Do you think you are well enough to handle this situation?" Gwendal asked monotonously, fighting off the urge to grit his teeth. "Also, is that what _you_ wish or is that what _His Majesty_ is wishing of you?"

Emerald eyes steeled, "This is not war, Big brother. Furthermore, my health has gotten better since my apparently needed rest." Wolfram smirked, crossing his arms. "And this… is what I should have done before."

The older of the two shook his head and resumed to the signing documents that their king will have to check later on in the day. He had to finish them; Gwendal knew that much was true. However, he was worried. What would happen if the king would finish signing them and night would come? The earth demon could not bear the thoughts of what should befall his youngest brother once more.

He allowed too much of both the king's and Wolfram's freedom.

"If you believe that this is what is best, then," the gray-haired man swallowed before looking back at the blond's firm resolve, "Do what you must."

Wolfram stood and bowed with much eagerness, "THANK YOU!" He beamed with a wide smile – a smile Gwendal had not seen for the longest time. With that, the blond stood to leave his brother's office.

"Wolfram."

Halting in his steps, Wolfram turned his head towards his brother. Gwendal was back to signing papers away. He was not looking up.

"Try… try not to hurt yourself."

"I am not a firefly."

Wolfram finally stepped out and the smile from his face disappeared. However, his face remained youthful and lively. And as he walked the halls of his home, each person whom he had passed by took note of the blond fire demon's mood. It was a strange yet welcoming sight to see a livelier Wolfram von Bielefeld. The cause of such change, however, remained unknown to the occupants of the castle. They could only watch as the prince continued to make his way back to his room underneath the bright sunlight that shined through the enormous glass windows.

It was a breathtakingly beautiful view.

**-.-.-**

Katarina and Yuuri sat in the dining room as they waited for their breakfast to be served. It was quite a peaceful morning that day. Moreover, it was quiet as well – only the soft clangs of the pans and pots and the hustle and bustle from the royal kitchen could be heard. As well as the sound of Katarina's sipping of the tea she was given.

"Will you be signing more of those documents today, Yuuri?" The red-headed woman started, setting the tea back onto the saucer it was partnered with.

"Hm?" The king looked to meet his fiancé's gaze. "Well, I think so…" He smiled, "But I promise to finish early."

Katarina merely shook her head, "Take your time." She replied calmly. "I can wait."

"But I haven't been with you lately!" Yuuri complained as he leaned in a bit closer, much like a child, to catch a better view of Katarina's face. "I know! Let's go to the market after I finish all the paperwork!" He announced happily.

"You can't just hurry your work," the woman argued, wearing a frown on her face. "We can go to the market some other time. How about we just watch the fireflies with Greta tonight?"

Yuuri froze – his blackened orbs widened as his lips set into a thin line. Later that night, he clearly remembered, he had his own time with Wolfram and Greta. Only with those two. And as much as he wanted to take his fiancé along, he promised the blond prince that he would not do so. It was a promise that he intended yet was reluctant to keep.

Nonetheless, the king could not help but be excited.

"I… can't tonight." The young demon king uneasily spoke, moving to rest his back onto his seat as he noticed the maids entering and preparing their breakfast. After briefly thanking the servants for their efforts he addressed his fiancé once, "I promised Wolfram that I'd take him and Greta to view the fireflies."

"I see." Was all Katarina could say.

"Let's just see them tomorrow night, maybe?"

Katarina huffed.

Then there was silence.

Then, she gracefully – yet with a speed of someone willing to run – ate.

"I see…" She repeated in between her bites and swallows. "I am still no match against Lord von Bielefeld."

Surprised, it was Yuuri's turn to frown. "What are you talking about?" He asked without touching his own food.

"Just how many nights have I spent sleeping alone and waking up alone?" The crimson lady swiftly answered back. Her knife, just as quick, was slicing through the meat prepared. "Just how many nights am I going to have to share you with your work _and _Lord von Bielefeld? Honestly, I can handle sharing you with the entire country as you are the king. However, _Yuuri Shibuya_, I refuse to be engaged to someone that I have to share with just _one _person…!"

"Wait, hold on a second," the raven king continued to wear his frown. His brows furrowed. "Why are you – where is this coming from?"

"That man is stealing you from me!"

"Wolfram is _not _a thief!"

"Oh, he isn't?" Blue eyes shot up to meet black.

Then the silence returned.

And it dawned on to Yuuri: it was their first argument.

Furthermore, it was about Wolfram.

"In any case, Wolfram will never think of stealing anything or any_one_!" The demon king defended in deathly seriousness as he continued to stare at his fiancé's blue orbs. It was as natural as breathing for him – to defend Wolfram. Of course, with everything they have been through. "Things just haven't been right between us. I just want fix them. He's special to me, Katarina. He's my best friend, and I can't lose him."

The latter remained silent, returning to the food she so eagerly sliced.

Katarina tried to understand him. That was what she could only do, much to her chagrin.

"Look at you, defending Lord von Bielefeld like that…" She whispered inaudibly.

"Please don't be jealous of Wolfram," Yuuri pleaded exasperatedly as his hand reached to hold one of Katarina's. "It's true, he's important to me. But I love _you_." He smiled, expecting to finally calm his fiancé down. "I'm engaged to no one else but _you_."

A smile crept slowly onto Katarina's face just as soon as a faint blush started to appear. She could not help but be slightly giddy from what she had heard from the king, her fiancé. "And," she began, looking back once more at the man who continued to hold her hand and continued to look at _only _her. "I you."

"So I'll pick you up and we'll go to the markets later?" Yuuri was quietly grateful as he reverted back to his more cheerful self. "Then tomorrow, we'll view the fireflies."

The latter merely nodded in contentment.

"Daddy! Lady Katarina!" Greta's voice suddenly sounded the dining hall as she bounced towards her father and his fiancé. "Good morning!" She greeted brightly.

"Good morning, Greta." Yuuri greeted back equally as bright before receiving a kiss on his cheek from the little girl.

"Good morning, princess." Katarina followed, watching Greta take her seat. "You look happy today."

"Oh, I am!" The youngest of the table grinned. "Daddy, papa, and I will watch the fireflies glow tonight!" Greta added excitedly. However, as she was taught, she continued out of respect, "Would you like to come with us?"

For a moment, at the invitation, the crimson lady was silenced. Stealing a glance at Yuuri, who was too preoccupied in pouring his daughter a glass of milk, she shook her head. Hiding her own emotions, Katarina said: "You three should enjoy each other's company tonight."

**-.-.-**

Dusk – the darkest hour of twilight in the evening. The orange hue, slowly being conquered by the darkness of the New Makoku night, bid its slow yet elegant farewell as the fireflies, one-by-one, came out. They appeared as if they were the stars of the early night sky, dancing through the entire kingdom as daylight kissed the nighttime for the last time before it disappeared entirely.

It was a majestic sight, undoubtedly.

And Lord Wolfram von Bielefeld loved it. With that, he allowed himself to stand – at that moment – alone in the palace garden to bask in the beauty before him. His emerald eyes glittered in amazement. For the first time in a long time, he truly felt at peace. Thus, he allowed a smile to creep onto his princely face.

Reaching his hand out, the prince allowed one of the luminous insects to land in his open palm. It was warm and soothing.

"Hey, Wolf!" Yuuri entered with a bright smile with Greta – who was smiling as well – in tow. "Sorry for being late." The king apologized while he scratched the back of his black head.

The blond merely shook his own head after acknowledging his former fiancé's arrival. Without stepping away from where he chose to stand, he said: "It's fine, you're just in time for the night." Before adding asking, "Where have you two been?"

"Daddy took Lady Katarina and me to the market!" The youngest of the three, Greta, announced all too happily as she moved to place a quick kiss on her other father's cheek. And Wolfram gladly received her affection, "We bought a jar!"

"Jar?" The fire demon blinked at double black demon king who, then, stood a few feet away from where he stood.

"That's what we do on earth," Yuuri answered with a grin still. "We catch fireflies and trap them in jars." He continued, handing a small jar to the young brunette. "Go on, Greta, why don't you try to get some?"

"Okay!"

At that, Wolfram and Yuuri, who once again moved in order stand beside the blond, watched their daughter run forward to where most of the fireflies gathered. "Sometimes, I don't understand your customs." Wolfram commented, resting one hand on his waist. "Why would you want to trap beautiful things?"

"Don't you do that here?" The latter male asked back.

"Beauty is meant to be free; at least that is how I _finally _see it." Wolfram replied as his own eyes decided to wonder to his other the side, where there was no Yuuri. Only the fireflies.

Yuuri looked to his right. He could see him, Wolfram, clearly. Indeed, the prince was beautiful. However, it was a realization he would rather keep to himself again. Defining a fellow man as beautiful was something the monarch was not adept in. Yet, he could not help but stare just as he always did whenever he saw the fireflies and Wolfram in a single sight.

Furthermore, Yuuri could not fight back being happy at the view.

"What are you staring at?" The prince, who was secretly the center of demon king's attention, spoke curiously.

"T – The fireflies," Yuuri shook his head in disbelief that he had, again, spaced out from looking at the glowing insects and Wolfram. "They're twice more than last night... a – and a lot more than the other nights."

"…you are such a strange wimp, you know that?" The other merely snorted, "Yet, you're right. Usually they're few and last only for a couple of nights."

"How many times have you seen them?"

"This is my third time."

"…_third_?!"

"I apologize that we're not granted the same luxury as you are on earth," Emerald eyes rolled. "_Your Mighty Wimpiness_."

"I'm _not _a wimp! Geez!"

Wolfram chuckled just as Yuuri smiled once more. The young monarch could barely remember the last time he saw his blond companion delighted. His black eyes grew softer as he decided to continue watching the fire demon.

"Have you ever noticed," the blond spoke as he landed his eyes at the king. "How much you've grown up? You're even taller than me now."

Black eyes blinked. "Huh?"

"You've become a great king, Yuuri." Wolfram went on, "New Makoku is blessed to be led by a man like you."

"T – thank you?"

"You've also been a great father not only to this country but also to an orphan." The blond turned towards where Greta was enjoyably running after the tiny glowing balls. "You gave Greta a home and a family to return to."

"Furthermore, you turned enemies into allies, allies into friends, and friends into family." Yuuri stood silently beside his companion as the other continued to look away at a seemingly farther view. A view he, himself, would not see. "You are the reason this world had begun to unite in peace and you are still reason why this world continues to stay united."

"These came from everything that you are – everything that made me love you more than I should." Wolfram paused. "I love you," he added as softly as possible without facing the raven lad who, he was still so sure, was standing beside him. Perhaps even in disbelief. "…regardless of your rights and wrongs."

Indeed, the demon king was surprised: "I… Wolf, you know—"

"And when I broke of _our_ engagement, I was afraid that I had no part in your world anymore. Then you asked for my help, you wanted _me _to help _you _with proposing to her. At that point, it was painful and it still is; however, the fact that you had ask for me became the reason to be a part of your life again." A short sigh escaped the prince's lips. "But, as I've said before, you've grown. You've found someone to love and be loved by. Someone you're proud of and you're willing to defend against all odds. You're happy just as much as you are great and fortunate. You don't need me to hold your hand, you never did."

There was a brief silence between the two as the fireflies proceeded to dance slowly around them, creating short-lived trails from their every movement. Thus, illuminating the details of the expressions that graced their youthful faces.

"Let me go, Yuuri." Fully turning to the raven lad beside him, Wolfram calmly smiled. "I promise you, as your subject, I will remain loyal to your kingship. And as a father, if you would allow me, I will remain loving towards Greta. But _please_, let me go."

"Wolfram…" Yuuri's voice softly rang as he watched the blond move closer to him. In each of the other's step, resounded his heartbeat. It was as if his heart had depended on the emerald-eyed demon before him all along. The king, then, abruptly stiffened at the feel of Wolfram's breath near his cheek.

The blond whispered his request one more time: "Let me go."

Greta happily closed her jar, having caught two fireflies. However, such delight could not compare to what she had just witnessed. Upon turning her sight back to her parents, the young brunette's eyes widened. Her decision to run back to where they were immediately changed as she saw her papa's lips landing gently on her dad's cheek while the fireflies glowed brighter than they ever did.

**-.-.-**

Barely minding the luminous insects, Gwendal and Conrad continued to watch from the window. Their faces were masked with unreadable emotions while their respective eyes nestled on the event happening below them. No one would know what the two could be thinking.

"What do you think?" Conrad asked, clearing the silence in the air away.

"They are through." The older stated without hesitation.

Cecile listened as she took a sip of the wine which was in her hold. Seated away from her sons, she merely sighed after releasing the glass from her lips. "Perhaps, it's for the best." She commented.

**-.-.-**

Katarina's blue eyes saddened. Her heart sank. The view from her own window was something she adamantly disliked. However, all she could do at that point was frown and tightly onto the bouquet of flowers Yuuri had bought for her from the market and nothing else.

**To Be Continued**

**Author's Note:** I loved how Yuuri and Katarina argued in the middle of the chapter. Anyway, the_ real _story ensues from this point on.

Chapter 9:

- Murata

- An original character who is yet to be named

- Love


	9. Chapter 9

_Let me go._

**-.-.-**

It was a bright sunny say – the fresh sea breeze rushed upon the man's tanned face as his lips grew into wide excited grin. His midnight blue hair, tied in a loose ponytail, flowed along with the wind. His gray eyes glowed brightly upon the sight of the dock the ship slowly but surely neared. The man was happy; there was no denying such emotion.

He stood at the front of the boat much like a war hero returning to his country. His home.

"Sir de Croix, we're nearing the docks, please get your luggage ready!" One of the crewmen yelled from his station.

The man addressed turned, still with a wide smile: "Land, ho!" He called happily whilst regally making his way to his quarters.

**-.-.-**

Murata smile politely upon seeing the beautiful lady stand before him, "I've heard quite an amount about you." The sage bowed before. "I've been told you were beautiful but I never thought you'd be _this _elegant." Such phrase only earned him a snort from Yuuri.

"Thank you," Katarina bowed in return. "I've heard a lot about you as well, Your Eminence."

"All good, I hope?"

"Well, with His Highness' kindness here," the crimson lady giggled softly, addressing her fiancé, "There is nothing more to hear than kind words."

"Knowing Shibuya?" The sage could only chuckle back.

Yuuri, for his part, then rolled his eyes. He knew very well Ken Murata was flirting with his fiancé. He was not fond of the idea, even when it was his natural way of meeting women. "Quit it, Murata." The king snorted once more, landing his hands on his waist.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"

At the scene, Katarina smiled – "You must be tired, why don't His Highness show His Eminence the way to the gardens," she suggested happily, "And I'll help the maids prepare snacks for us?"

"Alright." Yuuri smiled back, watching his fiancé move away from them as she made her way to the kitchen…

…Only to be met by Wolfram who walked towards them alongside a young soldier.

"Lady Katarina." The king heard the prince greet the woman. He watched silently, observing how the young soldier Wolfram walked with bowed nervously at the sight of Katarina and the knowledge that the he was around the king and the sage, himself.

Likewise, Yuuri also looked at how his fiancé greeted Wolfram. "Lord von Bielefeld." She nodded hesitantly without looking at the prince. It was an awkward situation – Yuuri knew that for a fact; especially when Katarina had confronted him with the event that occurred some nights ago.

He remembered quite accurately how she questioned his fidelity towards her in the confines of the royal bedroom. How she threw the bouquet he gave her on the floor, screaming as loud as she possibly could: _HOW DARE YOU LET HIM KISS YOU?! _Yuuri had no idea Katarina's voice could be so shrill. He also had no idea how difficult it would be to console the woman and to extinguish her sudden outburst of jealousy. They had their second argument in the same day they had their first and the cause was still Wolfram. Fortunately, the argument managed to subside. The king could not remember how and when but somehow he ended up standing by his window after holding Katarina close before watching her sleep.

The fireflies were gone by that time. They disappeared the moment he parted with Wolfram. Even the two Greta had proudly caught disappeared without a trace.

"Lord von Bielefeld," Murata's voice pulled Yuuri back to reality as he realized that the prince stopped in their company. "It's nice to see you. I see we have ourselves a new recruit."

"Your Eminence," Wolfram had greeted kindly. "Yuuri." The prince – as well – smiled at the king. It was not a special expression, it was done out of practice. He did not like it.

But Yuuri smiled back, nonetheless, "Wolfram."

"This is Reynold Ashton." Gesturing towards the soldier beside him, Wolfram signalled for the boy to bow. "He will be a part of the Bielefeld personal guards. A little clumsy but he is skilled with his flames."

"M – My Lords!" The soldier stammered.

"My, my," Murata laughed, "Please protect our prince with all your might."

Yuuri merely stood rooted in his spot as the scene before him unfolded. "Your Eminence, please refrain from making me seem as if I need protection. I do not need a bodyguard. I need a soldier." The king continued to watch Wolfram as he scoffed and crossed his arms. "Anyway, we should be heading to the training grounds; I shall see the both of you at dinner." And with that Yuuri allowed him to leave.

He battled the urge of inviting the prince to join in the garden.

"Well, you two were… formal." The sage commented, also watching Wolfram disappear with the soldier in tow. "Honestly, though, I thought he would disappear from the castle if not burn the whole palace down."

Yuuri chuckled, turning to lead his friend to the castle garden – "He did though. Disappear, I mean." He said, taking a step forward. "Then he got sick and we talked," he continued as Murata followed. "Or… _he_ talked to me. And now he stays."

"I see," the sage's glasses glinted; his own black eyes disappeared behind the flash. "Too bad though, you two made a good couple—"

"—Wolfram asked me to let him go." Rang the king's doubtful voice – something he unconsciously did.

"It's never too late, Shibuya."

Yuuri turned back, his eyes were big – he still so clueless, "Too late for what?" He asked, ignoring the fact that there was still as strain in his voice.

The sage, in turn, shrugged and smiled. He knew the rift between his friend and his former fiancé grew wider each second they spent apart. Nonetheless, as optimism would relay and if the cards were played properly, it would not be – the sage stated – too late for the king and the prince to start from scratch. At least, that was what he hoped for. They were, of course, his favorite couple.

"Anyway, Ulrike said the fireflies came out?"

**-.-.-**

"Come on, men!" Wolfram yelled, watching the soldiers run their laps. He did not like what he was seeing – they were slower. Slower than when they had patrolled the borderlands. That was one thing he regretted upon making his decision to stay put until needed. "I left you some time to rest and this is what you present me with?! Have you no sense of shame?!" The prince frowned, his emerald eyes glared at each soldier that passed him.

Conrad, who decided to stand beside his younger brother, had his arms crossed. He was observing the Bielefeld training as well. However, the older prince did not mind how the soldiers ran – to him, their time was perfectly fine.

"You're going to tire them out before they can even head back out."

"If you haven't noticed, they were spending their time in the taverns," Wolfram frowned, "Flirting with anyone who passed them by. They were not, at all, recuperating as Gisela advised."

"Well, they are young men." Conrad chuckled.

The latter sighed in irritation – "You are not at all helping, Weller."

"Sorry," the other smiled. "However, I should ask though – why are you here?"

"If my presence is a hindrance for you—"

"—you know very well that is not what I mean, Wolfram."

The older prince lost count of the minutes or seconds of silence that reigned over him and his baby brother. He could only note that the soldiers had run by for at least two or three times. Nonetheless, the silence in between them was all but awkward. It was comforting, as strange as Conrad found it.

"I would prefer to suffer alone." Wolfram started, watching as his new recruit kept up with the veterans. "But then I realized I was dragging Greta along."

Conrad turned his sight to the younger prince beside him, "What do you mean?"

"Not only Greta though, there was mother. She came back from her travel just to comfort me. It must have been troublesome. My additional demands pushed Gwendal's buttons and now he's more stressed than ever. Gisela, well she had a field day with my ailments, my men too. Then there's you –" Wolfram paused in his thoughts for a while as he decided to yell at his men once more before continuing. "You have duties as Yuuri's godfather and as his bodyguard. I don't wish to be a burden by being your brother and his former fiancé. The wimp's a baggage enough."

The older of the two frowned at his brother's words.

"You're my brother and you're family, Wolfram," Conrad replied with his brown eyes still at Wolfram, who did not bother to look back. "You will never be a burden to me."

"In hindsight, I am." The latter countered, "Everyone's a step ahead of me, even Yuuri, and here I am pulling everyone else back. I'm even pulling myself even further back than I already am," he continued with a more tired sigh escaping his lips. "It's bothersome. _I'm _bothersome even to myself. I guess, in the end, I realized I'd rather not suffer at all… I should move on. And running away is not moving on."

At the very words he heard his younger brother say, Conrad smiled. Wolfram, _the _Wolfram von Bielefeld who stood beside him, changed. However, to him, he was still the baby brother who once – a long time ago – came crying to him whenever he scraped his knee or had a nightmare. He was still, to Conrad Weller, so precious.

With that, Conrad placed an arm over Wolfram's shoulders. Pulling him closer, as their bodies continued to face the track field before them, the older prince whispered: "We're here for you, Wolfram. Mother, Gwendal, and I." He added, "We love you."

"W – Weller!" Wolfram protested, yet made little efforts in pulling away. "T – This is _not_ proper military conduct. Let me go, it's embarrassing!" He complained, turning his head to a direction where his older brother could not see his face which held his signature pout.

And tears he fought against.

Conrad – regardless – continued to hold onto his baby brother...

…Only to hear their mother's squeal from the other side of the castle grounds.

**-.-.-**

"What was that?!" Yuuri yelled, surprised at the sudden burst of the blonde woman.

Katarina giggled, "Looks like one of Lady Cecile's lovers came to visit." She commented while pouring her fiancé tea.

"It looks like tonight will be a wild night," Murata grinned after thanking Katarina for the drink and snacks she offered him earlier. "If you know what I mean."

"Excuse me?" The crimson woman merely blinked at the remark the sage released.

"Gross, Murata—that's just…" Yuuri replied incredulously. He paled at the very idea his friend implied. "I don't wanna think about it."

Again, Katarina blinked just as Murata grinned wider.

"What?" The sage teased further – "It's not as if you, yourself, haven't had sex. It's fine as long as no one walks in on you!"

The crimson woman could only blush hard from where she stood. Her hand gripped tightly around the pot she used to pour tea. Never in her entire life did she think that the sage – the man who had served Yuuri and the first king – could be so open about matters concerning intimacy. She was uncomfortable.

Yuuri, as well, blushed but his was brighter than his own fiancé did. Leaning closer to his friend as he wore a frown, "We haven't done _it_ yet!" He said. Katarina flinched in reaction to what the king emphasized on.

"Oh?" Was all the sage could reply with.

"You Majesties," Conrad voice rang loudly upon arriving from behind Murata. "Is there something the matter? I heard my mother's voice."

"Speaking of mother," Wolfram came along; his hand on the handle of his sword as he appeared from behind his brother, "Where is she?"

Gathering her composure as she set down the pot she had been carrying, Katarina huffed as she faced the younger prince. With a smile, landing her eyes Wolfram, she answered: "It might be one of her lovers. I believe it's nothing to worry about." And she paused; however, without missing a beat, she added: "As we were."

Wolfram's brow rose.

Murata looked from the prince, then at Katarina, and finally at Yuuri.

Unfortunately, the king missed the sage's questioning gaze as he found himself trying to ease the atmosphere. "Well," He swallowed, "I think that we should all wait for Lady Cecile, and since we're all here, why not join us this afternoon?"

The older of the two princes nodded – "I agree with His Highness," he replied with a knowing tone. Eyeing his younger brother, he continued, "We should better wait for mother. After that, we can resume training?"

With that, Wolfram gestured in agreement.

"Ah, there she is!" The sage, easing the atmosphere even more so, smiled upon seeing the former queen approach their group. Her arms clung tightly around a stranger's good arm. "Like I said, tonight will be a _wild _night."

"Whatever, Murata," Yuuri snorted and turned his head to see what or who exactly his friend referred to. And he was just astounded to see a midnight-haired man whose gray eyes shined as he held a – perhaps – delightful conversation with Cecile. The said man seemed no older than himself – just taller. "Lady Cecile," the king greeted, standing up to properly face his predecessor. "And, uh, I'm sorry?"

"Oh, Your Majesty!" The eldest greeted in return, "Everyone – Wolfie, I'm glad you're here!" She announced with a far too delighted mood. "I'm sure you recognize him!"

"Wolfram!" The midnight man waved happily before respectfully pulling his arm from the former queen's hold. "I missed you!" He exclaimed, sprinting towards the prince he addressed.

"F – Fons?!" Wolfram trembled as he took a step back – an act which had alarmed his brother. However, whether Wolfram had attempted to avoid the impending embrace the newly arrived stranger tried to offer or not, the prince did not escape. Rather, he was locked tightly in the midnight man's arms. "Let go, idiot!"

"I don't want to!" Was the sole reply Wolfram received.

Conrad, at the event, blinked questionably before repeating the same act towards his mother in a more furious manner. Meanwhile, Cecile, at that point, clapped her hands in excitement as she squealed once more. It seemed as if she was more jubilant than she was earlier upon her arrival.

"Well," Murata turned to the – then – standing demon king and his fiancé, "I believe you were wrong, Lady Katarina. That person is _not _Lady Cecile's lover."

At the phrase, Katarina and Yuuri simultaneously looked at each other.

They were both too confused to react.

"Ah! Forgive me for my rudeness," the midnight man spoke, earning him Yuuri's undivided attention – just as he earned the rest of the group's. Without letting go of Wolfram, who was unfortunately forced to be dragged along his captor's actions, "I am Alfonse de Croix and I am here to steal the king's former fiancé!" The man named Alfonse announced. "But, please, call me Fons!"

**To Be Continued**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: PLEASE watch out for typos! **I may have a lot in this one!** THANK YOU.**

**-.-.-**

It was a perfect day – a fair weather. However, at the sudden intrusion of a – as Yuuri knew next to nothing – stranger, the afternoon had to forcefully be continued inside and within the confines of Gwendal's office. Much to the first prince's chagrin. Of course, such only happened due to the undying insistence of Gunter, who had raced to where his beloved king was.

The advisor was only looking out for Yuuri's best interests.

"_You_." Gwendal, who was safely seated behind his desk, seethed upon the sight of a very familiar boy. Behind him was an ever worried Gunter beside a very confused king. "You're back."

"He surely is!" Cecile joyfully made her way towards the eldest of her sons. Her arms, wrapping around a still aggravated Gwendal, she announced: "There's so much love in this castle, I feel eighty-four again!"

The former queen clapped. And this time, Gwendal was not the only one grinding his teeth. Aside from him, Yuuri noted that underneath Conrad's smile was a _very _displeased persona. On the other hand, Wolfram, who stood in front of the second prince, fought back the urge to scream as he forced the man he had just met to bow. Yuuri could not help but be sorry for the said man. After all, he knew how it was to have Wolfram physically assault him.

"Apologize." The prince demanded.

Smoothly releasing his head from Wolfram's hold, Alfonse chuckled. "But I already did."

"_Properly_." Wolfram snapped back, resting his hands on his hips. "Now!"

"It's fine," Yuuri stated, overruling what the third prince ordered of Alfonse. Earning him annoyed glares from the brothers. Conrad's, however, still seemed more disappointed than annoyed. "So, uhm, Alfonse—"

"—Fons."

"Fons," the king corrected himself. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, Wolf's right!" Alfonse's smile then ventured to those who stood in front of him. "I should really apologize once more. I feel as if I disturbed something." He bowed his head, "For that, I'm deeply sorry!"

"There's no need to apologize for whisking Wolfie away!" Cecile squealed, clapping her hands once more from where she was. "Come, have a seat!" She offered gleefully, presenting the empty couch he – along with Wolfram and Conrad – stood behind in.

The former queen's sons frowned simultaneously. Their mother was up to her antics again.

"Mother, please. This isn't really the time!" Wolfram exasperatedly pleaded, hoping his mother would finally stop.

"Nonsense, it's always time for love!" Cecile smiled, pulling both Alfonse and Wolfram to the couch. Wolfram, at that particular act, looked at Conrad with a fearful expression – it was as if he was silently asking for help. Fortunately, it was something Conrad did not fail to miss. And with that, he managed to sit himself beside his younger brother.

"Had I known courting Wolfram would be so easily approved by Lady Cecile, I would have done so years ago!" It was a line that earned Alfonse Wolfram's elbow. To which, he winced.

"Shut it."

Yuuri, who managed to keep his silence as the scene went on, held back a snicker. With Gwendal plastering wrinkles on his face once more and with Conrad, himself, not at all pleased with what was happening; the king knew he had to stay quiet. Nevertheless, he found it amazing that Wolfram could easily be the Wolfram he knew around Alfonse. It was natural.

"Uh, excuse me," the king managed to squeeze his way into the conversation. "What exactly are you here for…again?

Alfonse looked towards the king; the grin he managed to paste on his face all the while had disappeared. At that point, Alfonse finally became serious. Yet not enough to overpower the annoyances that emitted from Gwendal and Conrad; nonetheless, whatever he had come for was obviously an important matter. Yuuri, himself, knew that was certain. However, he did not know whether or not the said matter was good.

"Well, Your Majesty, I just came back from my study in the far eastern regions," Alfonse's words escaped his lips carefully, earning him everyone else's undivided attention. "Lord von Christ, I know you're one of the few people who know about it." He added, lacing his fingers together underneath his chin as Gunter stepped a bit forward upon hearing his name. "The supplementary elements."

"Pardon me?" Gunter eyes widened as his voice resounded excitedly.

**-.-.-**

Yuuri watched as his godfather bid him a brief farewell before briskly walking off to the direction his mother had dragged Alfonse and Wolfram. Meanwhile, Gwendal chose to stay inside the seclusion of his office to drink as he mumbled a complaint about unwelcomed distractions. Gunter, on the other hand, scurried off with Lady Cecile. However, not without bidding his beloved king a bone-crushing goodbye. And then, he was left alone, silently walking through the halls, on his way back to where Katarina and Murata wished to stay.

The young king could not help but wonder why the still and quiet of the palace was suddenly disrupted.

"That meeting took you long enough." Murata, leaning on one of the pillars, appeared as Yuuri rounded the corner. "Who is he?"

"Aren't you supposed to be with Katarina?"

"I was… but she was getting worried," the sage smiled as he pushed himself up from the pillar. "So I offered to check on her fiancé. Don't worry, Greta's keeping her company." He continued, "_So_, again, who is Alfonse de Croix?"

Yuuri shrugged upon urging the sage to walk with him. "Well, all I know is he's staying here for a month or so to study elements. Or something like that."

"A month?" Murata pushed his glasses up before shooting his companion a curious look. "Studying elements for a month, are you sure? Or studying _Wolfram _for a month?"

The king shot his sage a wondering look, "What are you implying Murata?" His tone was a little less than happy as a short pause followed. The sage merely wore a smirk – "I asked Gwendal and Conrad about Fons, though."

"I see you've done your research." Murata chuckled, "What did they say?"

"Well, Gwendal only said he needed wine and Conrad looked like he was more interested in following them around than answering my question. So I let him follow them."

The sage, once more, chuckled – "Ah, the beauty of a brother-complex," he grinned as he held his hands behind him. "What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

Murata sighed, "Lord von Bielefeld may perhaps be a former fiancé," the sage shook his head as he found that should have been impossible for his friend to _actually _miss what he implied about the prince. "However, have you ever thought of all the times you two had?"

Yuuri stopped in his steps with the perfect view of garden in front of him and the even more welcoming view of Katarina, who looked less distressed, and Greta together. Both were seated while they happily tasted the different slices of pastries his fiancé prepared with the help of the maids. To the king, at that moment, it was a picture of a family. He, then, turned to the sage who was – just as well – looking at the same scene.

"Quit it, Murata." With a smile, the king added: "Besides, I'm happy there's someone meant for Wolfram. He's back." And with that, Yuuri disappeared from Murata's side and ventured to where he greeted his fiancé and his daughter with the smile that he had shot the sage earlier.

In turn, Greta ran up to hug him while Katarina stood from her chair. She waited with a more serene expression, to which could be assumed, came from the fact that they returned without a certain prince in tow. And, perhaps, it had pleased her greatly to see her fiancé without Wolfram von Bielefeld. Not that Yuuri could pay any heed to that matter at that point.

Secretly, while still rooted in the spot where the king had left him, Murata was still dumbfounded. He found his head tilting at what would be the future royal family. It was a sight to see, admittedly. Nonetheless, the sage felt uncomfortable. Yet, he acknowledged the fact that he was so used to have one Wolfram von Bielefeld there with one Yuuri Shibuya. At the thought, Murata looked up as he hoped to see the blue sky above him. However – without meaning to do such – the sage was instead greeted by the view of the balcony from below. The balcony where Alfonse de Croix and Wolfram were, and it seemed as if they had just arrived there as well. Furthermore, they were too caught in an engaging conversation as they barely noticed who were beneath them.

Removing his glasses to wipe off the dust that accumulated on the lenses, Murata could only huff. It saddened him more than he thought. The prince who rightfully had his place beside the king who would become a great leader – the two were walking down separate paths in their small world. Although the sage knew they were likely to cross once more, he had no idea _who_ they would both be in the end.

At that, Murata only prayed the best for his – still – favorite couple.

**-.-.-**

Wolfram and Alfonse finally reached the balcony peacefully. At last, after escaping the former queen and the advisor as well as finding a way out of Conrad's watchful eyes, the two were grateful to finally have time to spare for each other. Of course, to Wolfram, it was in a manner that would not _and _should not be considered romantic. To him, that 'time' meant time to finally breathe away from the scrutinizing and assuming eyes.

"I see your brothers still hate me." Alfonse commented, resting his elbows on the marble railing before him. "But, hey, your mother _still _loves me!"

"The kiss you stole hits home," Wolfram snorted yet a smirk found its way on his princely face. His own back rested on the same railing Alfonse leaned on. "You know."

"Well, who could resist a face like yours," the latter replied with light chuckle. "And on such a romantic night, nonetheless!"

"Still a flirt, I see."

"Well, you're the only one I ever flirt with." Alfonse grinned at Wolfram, "Did you kiss anyone this time around? With the fireflies back and all."

The prince shrugged in response. "I did."

"Here I thought the fireflies were _our _thing." The prince's companion frowned tauntingly as his eyes rolled in false disappointment. "Who was the lucky one this time?"

"I kissed the king on his cheek as goodbye. Not much of a big deal."

Alfonse whistled in Wolfram's reply before eyeing the prince slyly. "You really are head-over-heels for that guy." He laughed a bit once more, "I can't believe he just let you go like that. I mean, what kind of idiot would let you go?"

Wolfram frowned; however, he was still amused. "The kind who allows you to live in the castle so you don't suffer in a shabby inn," he paused as he looked at his companion. "And the kind who is _our_ king. You should best be thankful that you are granted an opportunity to be in his presence."

"I would rather be thankful for being in _your _presence."

It was, then, the prince's turn to roll his eyes. Hitting Alfonse's arm with the back of his hand, Wolfram gritted his teeth, "Stop it, moron."

To which Alfonse merely replied as he looked back at the horizon, "I missed you too, _Lord_ Wolfram von Bielefeld."

Quiet – calm quiet reigned over the two as they decided it was the right moment to bask in breeze that blew their way. Not that Alfonse minded; he was honestly happy with where he was – with the one person he was well fond of for six years. Yet, it was a feeling that was not at all reciprocated, Alfonse was well aware of that. Of course, how could he not know that one significant detail, Wolfram did not fight the urge to burn him the night he decided to steal the prince's kiss. Nor did his brothers stop him from almost doing so. Alfonse was sure they were helping Wolfram roast him. Nevertheless, after all the years and all the expeditions he went on, there he was six years later since their last encounter. Alfonse de Croix was standing right beside Wolfram von Bielefeld.

Eyeing the prince from the corner of his eyes, Alfonse calmly breathed: "The offer still stands, you know?"

"I know." Was Wolfram's calm reply as he looked up at the bright blue sky above them. "Let's see in another six years."

"Or now."

"You wish, de Croix."

"Oh, I do, von Bielefeld."

**To Be Continued**

**Author's Note: **Yes, I know the chapter's short. HAHAHA. Anyway, thank you so much to BirdsOfFreedom for dedicating an art: goo_dot_gl_slash_icu0e! I'm so... oh, gosh. Loss for words! Read and review, thank you!


	11. Chapter 11

Wolfram looked at his reflection as he fixed his cravat. He wore a small smile, quite amused with the small present Alfonse gave him the day before. Undoubtedly, to those who never knew the prince, it would be easy to assume that he had everything and anything more he could want. However, that stood unproven: first, and unfortunately, Wolfram did not have a lover or – rather – _the_ lover of his choice. Second, he was just given one of the best souvenirs he could ever hope to get; something he never thought would exist.

At the memory, Wolfram turned towards the table. His smile widened upon the sight of what was restring there: an accessory. A bracelet, to be precise; more than that, it came with a charm. The said charm, a tiny orange fluff that was locked in a hardened clear gel, was firmly held in its place by a thin strap black strap. _It was supposed to resemble a firefly_, he remembered Alfonse explaining, yet it was impossible to trap one. _Instead, the craftsman decided to use a special kind of glowing flower_. It was a replica, the prince knew that very well, but he did not mind. Wolfram loved it all the same.

**-.-.-**

"Good morning," Wolfram greeted, entering the dining hall in a regal strut. "Where's Lady Katarina?" He asked with genuine concern upon noticing that Greta was alone.

"She went to the market with some of the maids," Greta answered with a childlike joy as she reached to kiss her papa's cheek.

"I see, and your father?"

Greta shrugged, in all honesty – she was clueless.

"We just came back from our morning run." Conrad smiled, ruffling little brother's head – an act which caused the younger prince to frown. "Good morning."

"Weller," Wolfram acknowledged while he crossed his arms, "Yuuri." He nodded as he noticed the king appearing from behind his brother.

"Good morning," Yuuri smiled in an exhausted manner, "And good morning to you too, princess!" The king grinned, as he kissed his daughter on her cheek. "Let's eat, I'm starved!"

All the more Wolfram frowned. He – then – watched as the king decided take his seat and as Conrad made his way to his own. Sometimes, he wondered why, indeed, he grew fond of the king in front of him. "Really, Yuuri," Wolfram started again, placing his hands on his hips. "How could you be so rude to forget there are _others _in the castle to wait for?"

Yuuri only looked at him with the same clueless expression Greta had given him earlier.

Conrad and Greta, on the other hand, found the scene familiar and were well amused of it.

Much to Wolfram's chagrin, "And you two, setting a worse example for this wimp," the prince continued, addressing how his brother and his daughter had filled their plates.

"Sorry…"

"Sorry," Great and Conrad simultaneously replied, still amused of how much Wolfram could be such a mother hen.

"And you?" Wolfram turned back to Yuuri, with a raised eyebrow.

The king gulped – "S–sorry," he managed to squeak. "…not a wimp."

"I love how you urged everyone to wait for me," Alfonse suddenly announced as he, just as suddenly, found his way near Wolfram.

It was too close for Conrad's liking.

"If you please," Wolfram smirked in reply, "Don't feel too good of yourself."

"How could I not? You're actually wearing my gift," The newcomer rejoiced upon realizing that Wolfram wore the bracelet. With that, he inched a bit closer to the prince beside him. "Good morning, Your Majesty, Lord Weller," He quickly added without so much as thinking of holding back the grin he had on his face.

Conrad grunted, taking his spork and shoving it into his mouth.

"Good morning," Yuuri smiled as he decided it would be polite to do so, hiding the fact that it was quite uncomfortable to see Alfose stand so close to Wolfram. _Seven centimeters, any less than that they would be close to kissing_ – at least, that was what the king had mentally noted. But then, it could have been mere exaggeration. Anyone at that point would exaggerate. Who would be comfortable in seeing a couple standing far too close for the onlookers' liking?

Still, Yuuri could not help but watch as Wolfram shot Alfonse sarcastic remarks and as the prince continued to wear a smirk, as well as how Alfonse could manage to get the other to laugh without any sort of difficulty. Also, he could not help but look at the simple piece of accessory that wrapped itself around the prince's wrist. Lastly, the king – out of curiosity – could not help but wonder if there was a meaning in accepting and _actually _wearing the jewelry they were given.

"I hope you had a good rest," Yuuri interjected, finally finding the will to speak. His voice was laced with concern for their visitor.

"Oh, it was splendid," Alfonse answered, not moving from where he stood. "But you don't have to worry about me, Your Majesty."

The king chuckled, scratching his head – an act that Wolfram found unfitting for his status. "I forgot to mention this yesterday," Yuuri continued, "But please call me 'Yuuri'."

Greta, who sat quietly between Conrad and her father watched what was occurring before her. She looked from her daddy to her papa and to the man whose name she barely caught. Then she looked back to her dad once more and lastly landing her sight at her papa. "Who is he?" The princess whispered as she tugged on Conrad's sleeve.

Conrad looked at the little girl with a forced smile, "He's Alfonse de Croix," he whispered in reply. "He's one of your papa's _friends_."

"I like him," the younger beamed.

"You do—"

"If you could, please step a few meters away from Lord von Bielefeld," Gwendal managed to quietly demand as he stepped in between his brother and the _obstruction_, whom he regarded as Alfonse. Conrad, who was cut off from his conversation, was thankful his older brother was around. "Thank you." The eldest of the princes coughed. Safeguarding Wolfram was their unspoken priority as older brothers.

"—yeah!" Greta, in a hush, answered Conrad's unfinished question, earning her his attention once more. "Papa's smiling."

"Oh, are you the princess?" Alfonse questioned lightly across from where he was forcefully seated: in the middle of Conrad Weller and Gwendal von Voltaire. "My, you're a pretty one. Hi, I'm Fons."

The child blinked at how casually and smoothly the man she previously admitted to liking greeted her. With a smile and a nod of politeness, she answered: "It's nice to meet you, Sir Fons! My name is Greta."

"Careful, Greta," Wolfram commented from where he was – at Gwendal's other side. "He'll eat you." It was meant to be an inside joke.

Gwendal choked.

Conrad choked.

Yuuri could have sworn there was an innuendo beneath the statement.

Greta blinked.

Alfonse, on the other hand, acted too as though he was hurt. "You wound me," he answered, understanding what Wolfram. "But hey, you tasted pretty sweet."

Yuuri spat out what he was drinking.

"What a beautiful day!" Cecile, just in time, entered the scene with Gunter in tow.

**-.-.-**

_I'm happy for Sir Fons and His Highness!_

Yuuri, one-by-one, recalled the pieces of rumors he had heard as he roamed the castle grounds. Not that they had bothered him in the first place. However, at the moment that he was locked inside the confines of his own office, he could not help but linger at the thought of Wolfram and Alfonse. How they were so comfortable with each other. In fact, as the king saw, they were probably so comfortable with each other's presence that they barely thought of the exchanges they had. Hence, the morning's interesting conversation.

_Lord von Bielefeld is handsome when he smiles—_

Moreover, beyond everything else, Yuuri could not believe that Wolfram was capable of making such… _lewd_ commentaries. In front of his brothers _and _Greta, as well. It was a side of the prince he never knew existed – the more friendly side.

_ Did he accept?_

But, the fact that Wolfram could say such words were proof of his relationship with Alfonse. It was deep, Yuuri knew that and it may perhaps be even deeper than he could ever explain. Their – Wolfram and Alfonse's – closeness, was the type of intimacy that went beyond emotional and exuded in their physicality. At least, that was what the king felt as he watched the two.

_Well, he __**is **__wearing the gift—_

Their seven centimeters awkward gap, as some would put it, meant nothing to the level of comfort the two shared with each other. Alfonse was happy around Wolfram just as Wolfram was more than pleased around Alfonse. Honestly, Yuuri wondered to himself if his closeness with his own fiancé was the same as the closeness his own former fiancé had with his friend. Or if Yuuri, himself, had reached the same level with the said former fiancé.

_If things go well, there will be weddings this year!_

"I won't be shocked, you know." Yuuri thought aloud, causing Murata to look up from what he was reading and where he was sitting.

"About what?" The sage blinked, eyeing his friend strangely.

"If Wolfram gets married to Fons," the king admitted, sighing into what he was lagging behind on: the massive paperwork Gwendal abruptly decided to dump on him. He learned – at that point – that the breakfast incident was something never to be talked about ever again.

"I thought you're happy Wolfram's happy?"

"I am!" Yuuri defended; signing absent-mindedly as he set a paper he had finished marking on another stack. "I really am."

Murata scoffed, returning to the book he was so immersed in: "You barely sound like you're glad." The sage stated with a disinterested tone.

"…were we intimate?"

"_Excuse me_?" Murata's shot up; once more, his attention had been stolen from the book he was delightfully reading once again.

"Not _us_!" Yuuri snapped back, "I mean… me and – you know what, never mind."

The sage remained silent while his eyes watched his friend. His mouth twitched into a soft smile. Murata found it entertaining to see the king tackling less political issues and more of issues concerning himself as a young boy. And his love life – "I think I know what you want to ask, Shibuya." Murata grinned wider at his reddening friend. "But the answer you get depends on _who _you partner yourself with in your question."

"You're implying weird things again, Murata." The king mumbled into his work. "Why would I partner myself with Wolfram?"

"Ah, unconsciously, he admits! Poor Lady Katarina!"

"T – that's not it! It's just, you know… Wolfram and Alfonse seem so intimate more than," Yuuri's eyes shifted uncomfortably. "Katarina… and I."

Murata's glasses gleamed, "Where is that thought coming from?" he asked with his eyes hidden behind the reflection of light.

Yuuri sighed, "I don't know," he stopped in his sentence and his paperwork. "Alfonse gave Wolfram a bracelet and the maids started talking… and I was just curious if things could move so fast between two people—"

"—it means nothing."

"What?"

"Accepting and wearing jewelry, it means nothing."

"I wasn't thinking that…"

"Well you were going there," the sage chuckled before reassuring the king once more: "Jewelry doesn't mean much here. One thing though: _every _relationship's closeness or intimacy, as you say, is not based on speed. It's based on knowing how far you are willing to go and until when you are willing to take."

"Murata…"

The sage could only wear a smile at that point. He had to admit to himself, he was grateful for the eons' worth of memories. For with those memories came wisdom he managed to accumulate throughout the many lifetimes he was privileged to live. However, sometimes, Murata thought, knowing nothing and just learning was just as nice as well.

"Well, this is as long as I can stay," Murata started again as he stood from his seat, leaving the book down on the chair. "I got myself some temple stuff to attend to. Bye."

"Yeah, bye." Yuuri nodded, watching his friend leave.

Fortunately for the king, he was not left alone for so long. A few minutes of silence since the sage left his office, Yuuri heard the door push open. His eyes, then, darted towards the person who blessed him with their presence. He was thankful. At least he did not have to deal with his thoughts alone.

"Yuuri," Katarina smiled as she entered with a basket.

"Hey, there you are." Yuuri chuckled at the sight of his fiancé. "I was wondering where you went." He confessed as he made his way to the front of his workspace.

"I was busy working in the kitchen." Katarina replied, shaking her head in slight remorse. "Sorry."

"It's fine," the king continued to smile as he leaned back on his office desk. "What do you have there? It smells nice." He asked, beckoning his fiancé to move closer to him.

And Katarina did. She moved without noting how near she could go until she would reached him. She was far too busy and excited to share what she had brought with her. "I was working with the maids; they were helping me prepare for our afternoon picnic!" She announced excitedly while she looked through the contents of her basket. "We made sandwiches with homemade jam and juice. I also made some of Greta's favorite cookies."

"You really love to cook, don't you?" Yuuri commented as he watched her inch closer and closer to him. She was happy, he noted. Katarina had been giddy since Alfonse de Croix's arrival. Yet, Yuuri was sure it was not because of admiration. Else, he _should _have been jealous.

"Well, if I want to be a good wife then I should learn how to cook."

"I'm sure you'll be a great wife."

"Oh—!" Katarina looked up only to find she was _too _close to Yuuri…

_Seven centimeters_ – Yuuri blinked. It was finally _their _seven centimeters. _Or even less_, he thought to himself as he felt Katarina's breath land softly onto his skin. And he was sure that Katarina had felt his on hers as well.

Intimacy.

Closeness.

Comfort.

The king looked for any sign of comfort in the closeness of his situation with his fiancé. Thus, he thought back at how Alfonse was with Wolfram. How Wolfram was simply comfortable and at ease. How Wolfram was just Wolfram. But Yuuri could not find such. He could not feel the comfort and ease. He could not feel nor find himself. Instead, what the king grasped was the gap.

Furthermore, it was a discomforting gap that widened with every second he wasted thinking of ways to close it.

Perhaps the seven centimeters that Yuuri kept on mentally noting throughout the day just did not work well with them.

"S – So… a picnic?" The king stuttered, managing to move away from Katarina. Breaking away from the gravitation that she, _alone_, felt.

_Oh, they make such a lovely couple! _

**To Be Continued**

**Author's Note: **No matter what I do, Katarina and Yuuri just do NOT have chemistry at all. She's making me give up on her character. I wanted chemistry and I wanted people to be confused of who they want to end up with who. HUHU.

Chapter 12: Yuuram


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** School is starting on Thursday, my time. I must warn you all that updates will inevitably slow down.

**-.-.-**

_Oh, forgive me, Your Majesty! But I have to leave your side for the day!_ Yuuri snorted at the memory of Gunter's voice as it rang in the back of his mind. _However, I assure you that my love and allegiance is only for you! Thus, this duty of mine!_ The king released a snort once more at the melodramatic voice only his supposed advisor could do. _I trust that you study on your own while I leave your side._ And at those final words he could easily recall, Yuuri – instead of opting for a snort – chose to groan.

He was alone.

He was alone in the castle's archive.

He was alone in the castle's archive and he was locked in while a guard watched the door.

Apparently, if circumstances called for the king's well-being, Gunter's orders could not be overruled. Education, in every way, was for Yuuri's welfare. As much as the young king hated to admit such fact – he was, of course, the father of an entire kingdom. In addition, this time around, he could not bribe the guard.

Thus, at that moment, all he could do was attempt to understand the stacks of books he was presented with. Unfortunately, Yuuri lost his attention along the lines of the New Makoku demographics. To his eyes, the letters seemed to blur into shapes he could barely name. If the reading the books proved to be difficult, it was even harder for the king to comprehend the distorted shapes the letters started to form.

Whatever Gunter had left his king to self-study with was all but interesting. Nonetheless, Yuuri was still lucky enough to have Katarina leave him a few snacks before she had left to attend to her own duties as the king's official fiancé. _Did Wolfram need to do those when he was still __**my**__ fiancé? _Yuuri unconsciously wondered as he allowed himself to toy with the books before him.

**-.-.-**

Wolfram made his way through the palace halls. He wore a small smile as the lower ranking castle inhabitants greeted him. To them, the prince had started to become more lovable just as he started to become more approachable. To them, the prince, whom they would secretly address as the 'Spoiled Lord,' grew into a respectable and free young noble.

They all agreed that a break from a suffocating love affair was what Wolfram von Bielefeld needed.

Not that they could voice such out to the prince.

"Good afternoon, My Lord." One of the guards greeted as he walked alongside the prince.

"Same to you, soldier," Wolfram replied in a dignified tone, allowing the newly arrived guard to walk with him. "Is there something the matter?"

"Not at all, Sire!" The latter replied in his march, "I am now about to switch with another guard."

"In this direction?"

"Yes, it was requested that the castle archive be guarded while he is away."

"Ah," the other nodded, "We are heading the same direction, then."

The guard flushed – as guards often did in the prince's more mature presence. "I – it would be an honor to walk you there," he stuttered initially. "My Lord."

Wolfram chuckled, "Then please do so." The prince, then, gestured for the guard to lead the way. He was not basking in glory. Rather, the prince humbly accepted the honor the guard had bestowed upon him. Wolfram welcomed the complement.

With that, the two walked the halls in complete yet welcomed silence. And upon finally reaching their destination, Wolfram decided to take a step back in order to watch the change of guards – the traditional gestures that he was taught decades before. The prince had always enjoyed how the exchange of salutes and raising of swords happened. It was amusingly simple yet detailed.

"My Lord," Another guard greeted while taking his leave. It was the guard whom his companion had to replace.

"As you were." The prince nodded with a calm smile before moving towards the archive doors. "Well," he continued, eyeing the guard who happily accompanied him as he made his way into the archive. "Thank you for the assistance." And then he entered; however not before a fair warning to keep his voice low if not keep himself silent at all.

"Ah," Wolfram's brow rose. "Is _this _why I need to keep quiet?" He said as he crossed his arms, displeased at the display his king was showing: buildings and buildings of books.

Yuuri, in turn, blinked as he munched on the last piece of cookie. "Wolfram!"

"Don't tell me," the addressed prince made his way to a seat far from where the king sat: the other end. "You decided to make the archive a new hiding place. _No one _would ever look for you here." He sarcastically shot back towards his unintentional companion.

"No!" Yuuri frowned, crossing his own arms. "Gunter left me here to study."

"_Study_?"

The king looked down, ashamed of the book-based kingdom he built in a span of minutes. "I got bored?"

Wolfram merely rolled his eyes. "Wimp," yet, amusement was evident in his tone.

"…I am not a wimp." Yuuri mumbled; however made no indication of returning to what he was supposed to do. "What are _you _doing here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be training?"

Then, it was the latter's turn to blink – "I'm surprised you know my schedule," he paused. "But I finished early out of Fons' request."

"_Request_?" The king rested his head onto his open palms without meaning to sound too inquisitive.

"I couldn't go out today, the soldiers needed to train," Wolfram sighed, leaning his back onto his seat's rest. "He asked if I could wait for his return here, instead."

"What for?"

"His study, I guess."

And then it was silent. Their conversation had died down the way it would since the night of the fireflies. Abrupt and unclosed – the type of end that Yuuri can never be comfortable with. Consequently, the silence between them eventually grew awkward until another person entered the vicinity or one chose to leave. But, at that moment, no one could leave. Yuuri, himself, was locked in while Wolfram opted to wait for his friend. The king knew that the latter would not leave once his decision to stay was made. There was no way one of them would leave. There was only the first option in which they would have to wait for another person to enter the scene.

Thus, at that, all Yuuri could do was grab a random book from one of the buildings he created and, at least, attempt to open and read it. He hoped there were pictures inside.

Fortunately, there were – insects.

_Well, it's better than nothing_, the king mentally noted as he flipped a page.

However, it was not enough to get him through the time. With that, he looked up at Wolfram – he was busy staring out the window as his chin rested on the back of his hand. It was as if he was deep in thought.

"Uh, his study… what is it?" Yuuri started with slight hesitance.

In response, the prince looked back at his companion – "Excuse me?"

"Fons' research…"

"Weren't you listening when he first explained it?" Wolfram sounded annoyed as he grunted the words that escaped his lips.

To which, Yuuri only gave him a sheepish smile.

The prince's eyes rolled, "Do you remember the supplementary elements he talked about, at least?" Luckily, it was a question which earned him a nod from the king. Albeit, uncertain. "Well, he's trying to find a way for us to extend elemental control to more unconventional elements."

"We can do that?"

"The ancient tribes seemed to have done so." Wolfram affirmed, "Remember the paper he showed us? It was a scroll from the east, where the last of the ancient tribes existed."

"Ah, I see…" The king's voice died.

Again, there was silence. There were no more words to be said and their talk ended on a strange note once more. Yuuri flipped to the next page. Still, he was awkward and bored – as a result, he then chose to reflect on the things surrounding him.

And there was a breakthrough.

He stole a glance at Wolfram and he realized that the awkwardness he felt was not the same as the odd sensation he had with Katarina. On the contrary, while the oddity with Katarina urged him to stay a far distance, the discomfort he felt with Wolfram urged him to close the gap that developed between them. It was as if they were not born for the distance that grew. Like they should not have been apart in the first place.

It was strange.

Yuuri, then, snapped out of his reverie upon noticing Wolfram's bracelet. He was not feeling too happy about the view. "You and Fons seem so close," the king suddenly spoke without thinking of what he meant to say. Or without thinking at all – he was always so impulsive.

This merely earned him another raise of the prince's brow. He, then, replied with a smirk: "Are you jealous?"

The king gasped, "W – what? That's n – not what I meant! I just… you're just… you guys are almost always together… that's all!" He defended in an ironic manner as his face grew red. "I'm not jealous… why should I be?" He mentally scolded himself for barely thinking things through.

Wolfram chuckled, and it was a sound Yuuri rarely heard or was rarely the cause of.

"I'm kidding," the prince smiled. Again, it was an act that was rarely directed to the king. "I've been around Fons so much; I forget how to act in front of others."

Yet, Yuuri had no complaints. He liked the fact that Wolfram could finally show him a sincere and happy smile. It was _an amazing sight_, the king secretly mused to himself. It was far more amazing than one seeing the latter surrounded by fireflies.

"It's okay." The king found himself smiling back.

"About Fons, though," Wolfram decidedly answered the briefly forgotten question Yuuri posted. "Well, I guess you can say we are _especially_ close," he said with a tired huff.

"You don't sound too happy about it."

"Yuuri, you – of all people – know how it feels to be kissed," the prince added, "Against your will."

The other twitched. Unconsciously.

"You _kissed_?!" Yuuri frowned, standing rapidly from his chair.

Wolfram flinched. "Yes, Yuuri, we _kissed_. It's no big deal."

"No big deal?! Wait, if you didn't want him… to… to kiss you, why is he still _alive_?"

The prince sighed, "Sit down, you idiot." To which, the king slowly obliged – yet, he was still absorbing what was revealed. "Anyway, how he managed to survive is a question to me as well. But I guess, if he didn't live, I would grow old and alone."

"Why is that?"

"We had a friendly pact. A small deal, really," Wolfram chuckled to himself once more. "It's still six years away. But we promised to get married if we were still available by the time we were both ninety."

"How is _that_ a _small _deal? It's pretty big to me!" Yuuri was, once again, incredulous. He accepted the fact that couples of the same gender were capable of marriage; yet, it did not occur to him that Wolfram would be open to the idea of marriage with someone else. It was a selfish assumption. Yuuri knew it. "You're going to spend an entire lifetime with someone… wait, do you _love _him?"

"Slow down right there, why are you so upset about this?" Wolfram snapped back. "And what does love have to do with marriage?"

"_EVERYTHING_!"

"There's such a thing as _companionship_!"

Their voices were loud – and, probably, the guard heard them. However, an angry Wolfram von Bielefeld and an angry Yuuri Shibuya going against each other was something he could never properly handle. Thus, he did what he could do: nothing. By experience, sooner or later someone would walk out.

But no one walked out.

No one even dared to speak in a proper tone.

Of course, until Yuuri finally calmed himself down. He managed to realize how unbelievably stupid he was for acting the way he chose to. "Sorry," the king mumbled through his breath.

The prince, at the word, shook his head. "It's fine."

"So… companionship, huh?"

"Are we starting again?"

"No," Yuuri frowned for a while. He was quite defensive. "I'm glad you have someone you're comfortable," he continued in a barely coherent mumble. "To spend your entire lifetime with."

"You have that someone, yourself." Wolfram countered, regarding the king's relationship with his current fiancé. "I don't see why you should sound so _un_happy?"

Then it hit Yuuri – all along, Katarina had never entered his mind as they exchanged so heatedly. All along, what he had in the depths of his thoughts was the fact that Wolfram would be getting married to another man – a man he was quite close to. And, beyond every reason he could think of, he did not fathom why indeed it was the prince and Alfonse's relationship that bothered him rather than the lack of thought of his own relationship with Katarina.

"Katarina and I…" Yuuri resigned to an excuse as he found no just grounds to be, as Wolfram stated, unhappy about the his friendship with Fons. Wishing to deny the truth, the king admitted a problem he previously pondered upon: "Aren't that close. At least, not as comfortable as you guys."

Wolfram, at the supposed confession, tilted his head. "I'm not entirely sure, myself, why Fons and I are so close. It's just that, from the start, we've been really good friends. It's like we ride the same wave."

"What about us?" The king asked, "Would you consider us as good friends?" It was an outside topic.

"Yuuri, we never became _good_ friends. To me."

"What do you mean?"

"Wimp, where is this coming from? We were talking about you and Lady Katarina."

The other, shook his head – "Sorry," he apologized once more. "Random thought. Never mind…"

"Anyway," the latter chose to forget how the king easily dismissed the thoughts of his fiancé so suddenly. "Developing friendship and developing romance are two very different things, Yuuri. I'm sure you and Lady Katarina will figure things out. You're a fairly new couple, after all."

"I hope you're right," Yuuri replied with a grin. However, he was still more interested in knowing how close Wolfram and Alfonse were. "But how did you meet Fons, though?"

"Are you planning to _cheat_ on Lady Katarina with Alfonse?"

"NO—"

"—my mother held a gathering for nobles, two years before you arrived." Wolfram smoothly interrupted his companion. "Coming from different territories, they had to come earlier than the party and stay in the castle guestrooms. Some, a week and others, two. Fons came from the southern area of the New Makoku territory – the Gyllenhaal lands."

Yuuri listened intently as he found himself engrossed in Wolfram's history.

"Apparently, he accompanied Lord von Gyllenhaal because he was going to take the same route. At the time, he was heading north." The prince went on, "But then, mother found him handsome and convinced him to stay for the gathering. So, we got introduced and – as they saw it – became inseparable."

"What is he anyway?"

"A scholar sponsored by the Gyllenhaals." Wolfram answered, "He's study on the supplementary elements has been ongoing since then." The prince informatively stated; however, in sudden realization, he crossed his arms. "Speaking of _study_, shouldn't you be stu_dying_?"

"You're more interesting than these!" Yuuri argued as he gestured towards the forgotten book-kingdom.

The latter snorted, "Thank you for finding me more amusing than books."

"You know what I mean." The other replied with a frown.

Wolfram smirked once more. "So, are you still going through with it?"

"With what?" Was the king's reply as he flipped another page of the book he still had before him.

The prince shook his head in disbelief. His eyes widened – "Don't tell me you've forgotten! The wedding proposal. _Your_ wedding proposal."

Yuuri gulped in return, "I did not!" He did.

Wolfram squinted as he looked at the king. "You did, didn't you?" The blond frowned, perhaps in wonderment of how he could have possibly fallen in love with such as oaf. "In any case, you still have a lot of time before the ball. What's the plan?"

"…I don't know. Ask?"

"Like I said," the prince stood and made his way towards the king. "You still have a lot of time." He said with a snort Yuuri knew so well. An annoying yet very much welcomed snort. "So, wimp…" Wolfram continued to walk towards the other, taking a book from the top of one of the many book buildings the king built. It was a sleek motion. "I think I have the book just for you."

"What's this?" Yuuri questioned upon the receiving the book in his hand.

Wolfram's back leaned on the table top, a few inches away from where Yuuri was. "Read the title," he implored as he pointed towards the title of the book.

The king squinted, trying to properly read the writing he was forced to be familiar of. "Traditional… courtship." He recited carefully. "Hey, what's this supposed to mean?"

"Take it from _me_," the prince leaned down in hopes of meeting Yuuri's eyes. Yet the young king had yet to look back at him. "You are a terrible courter."

And it was then that Yuuri turned, only to meet the prince's alluring emerald orbs. Whatever he had to say died out in the back of his head. For at that moment all he could concentrate on was the fact that Wolfram was _less _than seven centimeters away from him. But such did not bother him at all. Contrary to what he was supposed to feel, the lessened distance between the prince and himself felt _like_ home. Yet, the king still could not help but feel as if the only way for everything to _be _home would be the full disappearance of the less-than-seven-centimeters gap in between the two of them.

Perhaps, it was because he was so used to having Wolfram sleep beside or _be _beside him. Not that he cared that much. At that point, all he wanted was to destroy the distance he and Wolfram allowed to grow. But – upon running through his thoughts – Yuuri knew he lost the right to do so. He was not naïve. After everything that transpired between them, the king understood that he was the cause of Wolfram's heartbreak. Asking for more than what the prince offered him was the worst he could do.

Thus, Yuuri could only bask in the moment.

"And this book is for you," the king began – finding it quite selfish of him to keep Wolfram's close proximity all to himself. "Here." He grinned, offering the insect book he was previously attempting to read.

Wolfram, at the act, shot him an annoyed look. "Are you implying that I'm a bug?"

Yuuri could released a small amount of nervous laughter as he feared for an impending death. "N – no!" He defended himself in response to Wolfram's accusation. "It has stuff about fireflies…" He continued after he decided to steal a short glance at the prince's bracelet. "I know how much you love them and all."

The prince's eyes widened. Yuuri remembered – "I – I'm surprised you actually read something," he coughed as he tried to redeem his composure. "But thank you." Shooting Yuuri another smile, Wolfram accepted what he was given.

Yuuri smiled back, "We should talk some more," he stated without removing his sight from Wolfram. "I mean, if… if you have the time."

The latter was taken aback; yet all he could do was nod in agreement, "Yes, we should."

"MY BELOVED KING," Gunter – as if he had timed it all – burst through the doors. "I AM BACK! FORGIVE ME FOR LEAVING YOU SAD AND ALO—_Wolfram_?"

The two turned their heads swiftly towards the advisor just as Alfonse appeared from behind him. At the state of surprise, Wolfram decided it was a good time to leave the king and the vicinity. "You should leave the wimp on his own more often," the prince briefly patted Gunter's shoulder. "He learns more on his own." With that, he took his exit along with his scholarly friend.

However, it was done not long after bidding Yuuri a short farewell.

While Yuuri, for his part, had done the same.

They were friendly.

Gunter, mouth-opened, only looked from Wolfram then towards his adored king.

**-.-.-**

"I smell a competition." Alfonse snickered, walking along Wolfram's side.

Looking at his friend, the prince monotonously asked: "What do you mean?"

"You two were _pretty _cozy in there."

Wolfram shrugged and chose to say nothing in response. Instead, he opted to tighten his hold around the book Yuuri had earlier offered him.

**To Be Continued**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **SCHOOL STARTS TOMORROW. Just when the story is developing its way to Yuuri x Wolfram too. I cry. I can't wait to finish the next chapter because the chapter after that is—

Watch out for mistakes! Read and review!

**-.-.-**

"Well, you're a bright ball of sunshine." Murata grinned as he entered Yuuri's office.

The king, in reply, smiled brightly without minding the comment the sage actually made. Why would he? It was true in every way possible. Yuuri was quite a 'ball of sunshine' for the past few days. The reasons as to 'why' exactly were unknown, however.

"Good morning to you too, Murata," the king – then – greeted the sage with much enthusiasm.

There was enough evidence of his friend's happiness for Murata to only stare back in wonderment.

Nonetheless, with Murata being the supposed teenager that he was, he still had certain things to say. "Did you get _some_ from Lady Katarina?" His brow rose as a smirk stretched across his young lips, moving to sit on one of the seats within the vicinity.

Conrad, who was standing on the far side of the room, stopped in looking at the books that freely presented themselves on the shelf. The second prince was openly disturbed at what the sage heavily implied. Consequently, his smile disappeared. Silent and unnoticed by the other occupants, he decided to turn his attention to what king was going to react. Secretly, he was very afraid. Of course, at the midst of breaking his youngest brother's heart, Yuuri was still his godson. There were certain things he prayed would not _yet _happen. As the king's guard and godfather as well as Wolfram's brother.

Fear came to the prince stronger, noting that Yuuri rapidly reddened.

Conrad knew he had to brace himself.

"W – what?" The king gasped.

"How far have you gone with her? Was it good? Shibuya, you player!" Murata was simply enjoying his teenage years. "My little Shibuya! All grown up!"

Conrad wore a frown and turned back to the self he was so engrossed in.

While Yuuri decided to yell, "Shut up, Marata!"

To which the sage laughed lightly – the king was far too innocent as well as private in his _affairs. _"So you _did _get some. Well, as long as no one walks in on you…"

"No!" Yuuri shook his head violently, soothing Conrad's fears as he looked through the book titles again. "We're not like that! We're not even _close _to _that _yet! I don't want to think about _that_!" He shot back far too fast to be understood properly.

The second prince managed to smile once more, assured that absolutely nothing had happened _yet_.

Shrugging, Murata wore a scoffing frown. "I don't know if you're prude or just slow. She's a gorgeous woman – you sleep in the same bed. The _same_ bed." He paused. "Unless, you're happy about a different person all together?" Then, the sage's mocking expression grew into a more knowing grin. Earning him Conrad's ear and Yuuri's discomfort. "Wolfram von Bielefeld."

Conrad stiffened in his stance; however, he fought the urge to react violently.

Nonetheless, the reaction did not escape Murata. But it was something he knew he would have to address later. At that moment, what he wanted more than anything was to annoy his friend. It was far more enjoyable than of the sagely duties he had to attend to.

"I heard a lot, Shibuya." Murata rested his chin on one of his hands as he used the other to point at Yuuri in a teasing manner. "You've been hanging around Wolfram when no one's watching, eh?" The sage stated, leaning slightly towards Conrad's direction. "Like I said before: _player_."

At those words, the second prince, whom Murata gestured at, frowned as he turned towards his godson. Yuuri may have been the king and one he swore to protect; however, he found him distasteful on that very second. "What have you been doing with my brother, _Yuuri_?" He asked with an emphasis on the name.

Yuuri, in return, noticed the lack of smile on Conrad's face. "C – Conrad…!" He gulped before glaring at Murata, who was simply smiling the time away. "Nothing! We just… hangout!"

"When _no one_'s watching?" His godfather hummed, and it was then that a deadly smile crept onto his face. "Are you hiding something?"

"No one's watching? Maids and guards were everywhere! Besides, we just talk when we can! Most of the time he's around Fons or Greta or training!" Yuuri, who was partly outraged, frowned. "Where did this come from, Murata? And can you not jump to conclusions?"

It was Murata's turn to hum, "The walls."

"Walls?"

"The walls?" Both the second prince and the king rang.

"The walls have ears," the sage shrugged and leaned back on his chair. "Anyway, how are things with Lord von Bielefeld?"

Yuuri opened his mouth; yet there was no proper answer in his mind – only the sole fact that he was just _happy_.

Luckily, Gunter – and his amazing sense of timing – decided it was the right time to enter the scene. The advisor's hand rested heavily on the door he decided to fling open a few seconds before. His expression, clear for all to see – was forlorn and unsure. Such earned him three questioning looks.

"Yes, Gunter?" The king blinked at the intrusion.

"Your Majesty, I was thinking of what Wolfram suggested for quite some time," he sighed in defeat. Perhaps – the king assumed – it was due to consideration placed on the third prince's idea. "Maybe… Wolfram was right. You could learn more in your independence."

**-.-.-**

"I really don't see the point how walking around town helps you with research." Wolfram frowned, closely following Alfonse around as if he was watching over a small child. He wondered shortly why he was surrounded by ones that could be so childish.

"You really bought that excuse?" The scholar chuckled, turning to see the adorable expression on his companion's face. However, Wolfram was more annoyed than adorable – he was still cute, nonetheless.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Wolfram von Bielefeld, you _honestly_ don't understand?" Alfonse was slightly surprised but opted for a sigh. "Fine, Your Highness. We're not studying today. _Today_, we're spending time with each other. Just you and me." He grinned as his arm snaked its way around the prince's shoulder.

The latter released a short snort; albeit an amused one. "It's been _just you and me_ for a while, what more could you ask for." He added as he lightly hit Alfonse's chest with the back of his hand.

"No. It was just _you and me __**and **__books__** and**__, sometimes, Gunter_."

"Alright, alright," the prince shook his head, finding no reason to decline anymore. Or at all. "But you better show me a good time."

"You're with _me_," the scholar grinned, leaning in. "And with me, it's always a good time."

Wolfram, who found no discomfort at all with the lack of wide distance between their faces, merely smirked. He looked straight into the other's eyes – "I trust you with that," his tone resounded in a challenging manner. "_Fons_."

"Wolfram," A voice called out. "Alfonse."

It was one of the voices that quickly caught Alfonse by surprise as both he and Wolfram turned their heads towards the direction where the second prince stood with the king and the sage. However, even when Conrad's voice rang cold, matching the equally freezing smile on his face, Alfonse made no move to separate himself from the third prince. Wolfram, as well, did nothing. Not even in the presence of both Ken Murata and Yuuri Shibuya. Although a part of him whispered he should have.

Alfonse could only release a disappointed groan. "Lord Weller, Your Majesties," he denied himself of a frown and settled for a supposedly warm grin, "What brings you guys out and about?"

"Well, thanks to Lord von Bielefeld here," Murata answered for the all, "Lord von Christ figured out that the best way for the king to learn is by experiencing the world. So we're on a fieldtrip!"

"A fieldtrip?" Wolfram cocked his head to the side, "Wait, Weller," the prince wore a displeased expression as he noticed something odd. As swiftly as he could, Wolfram moved towards his brother, much to Alfonse's chagrin. "Why are they undisguised?"

Conrad laughed lightly as he was triumphant over the fact that Wolfram finally moved away from Alfonse.

"_Weller_!"

"Sorry, I was just deep in thought," the older prince held his laughter. "Besides, what would be the point of disguising the king in his own kingdom?"

"Because it's safe?" Argued Wolfram.

"Now, now, Lord von Bielefeld," Murata intercepted. "How can Shibuya be in danger in his own territory? With Sir Weller around _and _yourself—"

"Ah, that would be a great idea." Conrad announced as his eyes glowed. He had a plan, and the plan was not to leave Wolfram with Alfonse alone. Of course, the plan also included the promotion of the king's educational interests as well. "I believe Fons is a very intellectual fellow," he turned the scholar. "Are you not?"

Alfonse replied with a slow nod, "Yes, I suppose?"

"With Lord von Bielefeld and myself as well as the intellect and wisdom of the sage and Sir de Croix," Conrad's grin widened. However, it was in a manner that seemed evil. "His Majesty will remain safe and educated!"

"W – wait, what? You can't just—" Wolfram attempted to argue once more. "Fons and I have plans"

Unfortunately, Conrad refused to listen. "Then it's settled!"

"And I thought I had Wolf all to myself today," Alfonse groaned loudly just as the second prince's hand landed on his shoulder.

"Shall we?" Forcefully, Conrad pulled – _pushed _– the scholar away; thus, intentionally leading the group.

Exasperatedly, Wolfram released a huff. The third prince, at that point, had no idea what to feel. He could only watch as his older brother force his friend away and as the said friend tried to get on Conrad's better side. And, as everyone probably knew, it would prove to be quite difficult – if Alfonse had not gained Gwendal's trust, it would be more difficult with the man that was tightly holding onto the scholar's shoulder.

The sage, who was left beside the third prince, chuckled. He was, once more, amused of the situation that was unfolding.

"Today will certainly be eventful." Murata mused in an audible tone. "Although, I feel as though I have to apologize on behalf of our group," he turned to Wolfram, who merely shot him back a questioning look. "For intruding on your date."

"Date?" Was the question that was left unanswered as Murata made his way through the crowd.

With that, Wolfram was left alone.

While Yuuri, who stood behind the prince, kept his silence as he allowed himself to process what was happening. As well as what he was feeling – from seeing Wolfram _literally_ in another man's arms to having the said prince stand in front of him. Yes, he was contemplating on everything that had transpired within the short amount of time they gathered. However, the king found that there was no certain definition that could describe the majority of the different emotions that ran through his very being. But Yuuri was sure about one – he was jubilant to know that Wolfram cared for his safety (as well as Murata's.) Nonetheless, the prince cared about him still.

It was a petty matter.

"WIMP!" Wolfram yelled loudly, snapping Yuuri out of his thoughts.

"WHAT?!" The king yelled back equally as loud.

"I've been wasting my time here calling you, quite respectfully – might I add," the prince scoffed, "But it seems that you respond to _my _term of endearment more."

"When will you quit calling me that?" Yuuri frowned, crossing his arms.

"Until you stop acting like one," Wolfram countered while he opted to rest his hands on his hips. "Honestly, Yuuri, I'm interesting than books but I _still_ manage to bore you?" he stepped closer to the king.

Obliviously, Yuuri just blinked. "Huh?"

"You," Wolfram violently landed his finger on the king's chest. "Keep disappearing into your own little imaginary world!" Every word was followed by a harsh poke. "So forgive me for boring you."

"That wasn't it, I promise. You don't bore me!" The other defensively argued, without even noticing the fact that one of his hands had taken the latter's. He added softly, "I swear, Wolf, you're anything but."

Both their hands were delicately resting on the king's chest.

And Wolfram struggled against any sort of possibly _wrong _reaction. Looking down at Yuuri's chest, where his hand seemed at home within the king's, the prince pulled out. As much as he silently admitted to himself that he did not want to. However, he _had _to.

"Idiot," he mumbled. "Let's go." Thus, Wolfram led – or he believed to do so – a partially dumbfounded king through the crowd.

While the aforementioned king allowed his hand to linger into the ghostly feel of the latter's. A smile involuntarily crept on his face as he followed Wolfram.

Murata, who found the perfect area to spy on the former royal couple, stood in his spot with a broad smile.

**-.-.-**

The scholar released a tired sigh as he decided to land himself on a nearby bench. Still very much disappointed from everything that did _not _happen: an entire day alone with Wolfram. Now, those who knew Alfonse de Croix fully understood that he was a generous demon. He did not hoard for himself. In fact, what he bought with his money were the basic necessities needed to live. And, occasionally, presents for people he considered precious in his life. And to Alfonse, it was supposed to be the day he would be _very_ generous to one Wolfram von Bielefeld.

Sadly, it failed miserably. With an odd-ball king, an elusive sage, and an overprotective brother on the side, there was no way to enjoy the third prince's company. Instead, Alfonse was asked to _teach _the uninterested king as they walked around town (and the sage was no help at all.) As much as he loved learning and teaching, he would rather do such with people who _actually_ shared the same interests. Moreover, during that day, Alfonse would also rather be standing beside Wolfram as he looked for souvenirs.

But, no – Alfonse was stuck under the watchful eyes of Conrad Weller while the king conversed with Wolfram as they looked at the trinkets before them. He should have been beside the third prince. Unfortunately, he could not at that moment. And it was not because he feared the second prince. It was more of he was tired – he needed to rest.

"Is this seat free?" Murata chimed in, pulling the scholar out of his blank state.

"For you, it is, Your Eminence." The scholar managed to shoot back a grin.

"Well then," the sage smile as he sat beside Alfonse. "So, Sir de Croix," he began respectfully – however, he was briefly corrected as Alfonse had interjected his nickname. "Ah, yes, _Fons_, you're very bold."

Noting that Conrad finally moved away to speak to the townspeople, the scholar's grin morphed into a smirk. He had an idea where the conversation was going, and the sage had been cautious enough not to add to the second prince's annoyance. "What do you mean to say, Your Eminence?"

Murata, in turn, laced his fingers together for his chin to lean on, "I apologize for disturbing your day with Wolfram."

"Forgive me, but I know you barely mean that."

"Oh, but I do," the sage chuckled, eyeing Alfonse from the corners of his eyes. "But as I said, you're very bold – not everyone is brave enough to step up to Lord von Bielefeld."

"Well, you know what they say," Alfonse answered, "I have to work hard to get what I want."

"And you want Lord von Bielefeld?"

The scholar, after finding enough strength, stood regally and walked ahead; however, he shortly halted in his steps. He turned to the sage, "That, and," Alfonse – suave in his words – affirmed as prepared to continue: "I am _hopelessly _in love with him." With that, he made his way towards the former royal couple, who finally parted.

Murata, on the other hand, stayed silent in his surprise.

It was not frequent that someone could be so proud of his feelings.

**-.-.-**

"You really don't know how to make a girl happy, huh?" Wolfram frowned as he saw what Yuuri had wanted to buy for Greta. "How do women even put up with you?"

"What, is it that bad?" The king blinked at what he had in his hand. It was a mere figurine of _something_, and that was sure. However, what that something was remained undistinguished. "I think she would love it, I mean it looks cool and all."

"Do you even know what that is?"

"No?"

The prince sighed and took the figurine our of the king's hands. "You know what, why don't _I _but something for Greta and you check the jewels over there." He haughtily suggested as he gently pushed the Yuuri away and returned the item to its rightful place. "Get something nice for Lady Katarina or something."

"Geez, fine," Yuuri challenged, suddenly reminded that there was someone who waited for him in the palace, "I bet I can find a better gift than you." He mumbled hoarsely, looking at the different pieces of accessories that were elegantly displayed on their respective holders.

The king's eyes scanned through the jewelry. He looked through bracelets, rings, necklaces, and earrings. They were all so beautiful. Yuuri reassured himself that whatever he got would please the fiancé who was rarely by his side for the past days. However, such reassurance came from the fact that he barely knew women or lovers at all.

In the end, he purchased an extravagant pair of earrings. Katarina was beautiful and Yuuri was sure that the earring would fit her properly. "Thank you," the king smiled at the bewildered old merchant.

Delicately taking the box from the old merchant's hands, Yuuri decided to cast one last glance at the pieces before him. Once more admiring the beauty of each, he found himself enamoured as he had just noticed a ring that was nestled at the corner of the table. It was a thin piece of gold, forged in an elegant design as it formed a round. At its center was a small piece of emerald in between two smaller diamonds. It was simple but still very beautiful – much like a certain prince.

In other words, the ring reminded him of Wolfram.

And Yuuri wanted nothing more but to buy it and run up to the third prince. Yuuri wanted to present it to Wolfram and tell him that the ring reminded him of the prince.

However, before his impulse got the better of him again – as it usually did, Yuuri was quickly disrupted by the merchant once more. "That ring is very beautiful; don't you think so, Your Majesty?" The old man finally found composure as he spoke to the young king.

"Yes," the king agreed with another warm smile. "It's very pretty." _It fits Wolfram more than that firefly bracelet. _He added to himself as he looked to where Wolfram was.

Only to be met, at a short distance, by the view of the prince's smile that was directed towards Alfonse. Yuuri, at that scene, stiffened. As he observed, the two were doing nothing more than exchanging a friendly conversation as they looked through hair accessories – which the king assumed was for Greta. Nonetheless, he felt as if the scholar had taken his place. And it all but sat well with Yuuri.

The king ignored the fact that he was forgetting his place beside Lady Katarina.

**-.-.-**

From the bench where he continued to sit and watch, Murata shook his head. He was, at that moment, both amused and worried. "Hey, Lord Weller," he addressed the man who had just arrived from talking to the crowd that flocked around him.

"Your Eminence," the second prince addressed back as he stood beside the bench.

With the sage's hands still laced together, "Which team do you root for?" He asked, turning his head towards Conrad.

Understanding what Murata meant, Conrad only looked at what was being referred to. There, he saw his youngest brother standing close to Alfonse, who he did not trust one bit, while Yuuri stood apart from them. And to Conrad, even when the king was his godson, Yuuri was still defined as the man who broke and still breaks Wolfram's heart.

"Neither." The second prince answered calmly.

"Hm," Murata's glasses glinted. "But what if Wolfram only had them to choose from?"

Without even looking back at the man conversed with, Conrad answered still as calm as he did before. "I think you would know my answer."

"I see."

**To Be Continued**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: Watch out for errors. **Yes, I typed that in bold.

**-.-.-**

Gwendal's brow rose as he questioned the new stack of papers Conrad delivered to him. They were all properly signed and they all came from the other office – the king's office. "He's finished?" The older of the two asked as he watched his younger brother land the heavy ream of paper on his table and in front of him. "Did he even take the time to _actually _read these?" He added a second question to his previously unanswered one, taking one sheet from the top in hopes to skim through.

Gwendal's furrowed his eyebrows.

Conrad, on the other hand, wore a smile – quite the opposite of his brother's expression – as he released a light chuckle. "Well, he's not done with the other _two _stacks you forced on him." He answered, "And, yes, he read them before signing. I hope."

"I don't like the tone of your last answer."

"I apologize," Conrad continued to laugh lightly, "But, Gwendal, why are you bombarding His Highness with paperwork?"

"I fail to understand you, Lord Weller," the first prince answered calmly.

"Honestly, brother?" The other latter answered in a knowing tone. "Also, you _actually _sent Wolfram on patrol duties. Last time I checked, you were against it."

Gwendal's frown deepened as he cast his eyes towards the second prince. It was clear that he was unhappy about some things and events in the palace. "Wolfram's patrols are close. Right outside the capital, we've no need to worry about him."

"_And_?"

"It's better than him hanging around those two imbeciles! I won't have one molesting _our_ baby brother and the other toying with his feelings." The older confessed boldly, making sure that his brother understood just _who_ he was angrily referring to. In turn, Conrad sighed, half in amusement and half in exhaustion. Gwendal knew that the gesture meant the latter understood.

"I understand, but some things are just out our hands," the latter answered as he looked at the other. Taking a seat in front of his brother's desk, he continued: "As much as I am against Wolfram's union with anyone of them."

"Is this why you've been lax in keeping the king away?"

"Sometime ago, His Eminence asked who would I prefer between Yuuri and Fons," Conrad's voice trailed off as he contemplated on the right answer. "Truthfully, I would rather have Wolfram choose Yuuri."

"That is where the sage is wrong," the first prince countered in a tactful manner, not fully understanding why Conrad had to pick Yuuri's side when he knew very well the king was engaged to another woman. Or why Wolfram's choices had to be limited to two people, when this youngest brother was deserving of someone better. "Wolfram will always have _other _choices aside from those two nitwits. I just pray he chooses the right one."

**-.-.-**

_He'll melt if you keep looking at him like that_, Yuuri groaned upon the recollection of Murata's words from the other day. Apparently, at least to Murata's eyes, Yuuri watched Wolfram in a _certain_ manner that the sage refused to explain. Moreover, it became his habit – at least, by Murata's standards again – that he would watch the prince intently as if he was the only person in the entire universe. "How can I melt Wolfram when he's the one who usually melts people?" The king absentmindedly snorted to himself before he recalled the sage's taunting comment again: _Are you planning to go all Demon King on Fons? _

The sage – as Yuuri remembered – called him murderous the moment he started looking at Alfonse de Croix. It was a heavy implication that Ken Murata defined Yuuri Shibuya as 'jealous.'

Which he was not.

The young king knew he never had the right to be jealous. Wolfram was not his just as he was not Wolfram's. At least, not anymore. Beyond such, he was engaged with Katarina – he was _in love_ with Katarina. Well, as he last checked, he was quite smitten by the woman. She was, to Yuuri, his _present_. His _now_. His _moment_. The lady he would see himself waking up beside with when the time was given.

So why was he jealous?

Or, perhaps, he was still jealous of the bond Wolfram and Alfonse had – of how he could never seem to reach such level with Katarina. However, as Yuuri was told by none other but Wolfram, himself, theirs was friendship. And it was very different from a committed relationship. Moreover, if it was their closeness he was jealous of, why did he – as Murata placed it – stare at Alfonse with a murderous glare?

Once again, he did not heed the fact of how it was easy to dismiss his thoughts on Katarina while he was easily thinking of the third prince in an instant. It was as if he subconsciously found Wolfram as his home. However, that, along with the sudden disappearance of Katarina from his mind, was a matter he did not pay any attention to. What he wanted, more than anything, was clarity.

Thus, Yuuri's thoughts raced from one to another, back and forth. He wanted to figure things out and he wanted to figure them out _clearly_. However, the young king could not find any sort of answer for the question that baffled him. Nor could he force himself to think anymore. At that point, all the king could do was rest his head on his desk, specifically on the document he was supposed to sign. Yuuri was, then, hidden behind two high stacks of paper that Gwendal roared for him to sign.

That memory alongside his earlier memory of Murata caused him groan onto the paper beneath him.

The king was tired.

"Oh, Your Majesty!" Cecile walked in.

Yuuri mournfully raised his head at the sight of the former demon queen, "Lady Cecile, what are you doing here?" He asked respectfully.

"Your door was left open and I just happened to pass you by." She said with a smile as she moved towards the window behind the young king. "What are you doing in a stuffy place like this?" The former queen asked in a rarely used motherly voice as she drew the curtains open, causing the bright sunlight to enter the room. "You should play in the courtyard!"

"As much as I'd love to, Gwendal might rip me into pieces if I don't finish signing these papers." The younger of the two sulked as he answered, forgoing the deeper dilemma he held. "I'd rather live to see another day."

Cecile, on her part, continued to smile as she moved to rest her hands on her hips. "Oh, come on! All work and no play makes the king _incompetent _at night," she sang, and, in turn, Yuuri twitched. "But I insist! You go play in the courtyard and I'll take care of Gwendal for you."

**-.-.-**

"You're almost there, princess!" Alfonse smiled happily at the child who sat on his shoulders. "Come on, reach up, reach up!" The scholar repeated happily as he stood on the almost-tiptoes.

Greta giggled as she stretched for the fruit that hanged delicately on the tree, "Stand higher! I can't reach it yet!"

"Yes, ma'am!" The scholar agreed as he, then, stood on the very tip of his toes. "Got it?"

"Got it!" The child smiled as she held onto the peach.

Wolfram sighed exasperatedly, crossing his arms. He was not at all pleased with the danger that Greta was exposed to. Honestly, why did Alfonse have to point out the fresh peaches that grew not too far into the tree? Or why did the little girl have to be as adventurous as the father who adopted her. Sometimes, Wolfram thought that since Greta and Yuuri were so alike, they _had _to be biologically related somewhere down the line.

"Fons, would you please put my daughter down," the prince, still as charming as ever, requested with slight annoyance as he made his way near his friend and his child. "I would rather not have a maimed princess, thank you."

"Well, aren't you a stick in the mud." Alfonse snorted playfully, supporting Greta off his shoulders. "Come on, Greta, let's show your _mama_ how many we got."

"Excuse me?" Wolfram's brow rose at being addressed as a woman.

"Well, you do act like a mama, papa!" Greta beamed in agreement, which caused the scholar who walked right by her side to snicker in amusement. The child's smile widened at the slight frown the prince failed to hold. See, the frown turned to a soft smile. "I got a lot." She continued, revealing the abundance of peaches cradled in her small arms.

The prince shook his head, "That _is _a lot," he said in a gentle tone as his eyes landed on the fruits. "Why don't we get them to the kitchen and ask if the maids can make us some pie?"

"I'd like that!" Greta bounced in delight.

"But before that!" Alfonse piped in, taking a peach from the little girl. He smiled as he rubbed the fruit on his tunic, "We should taste it first." He announced, biting from the fruit before he held it out to Wolfram. Alfonse, then, wore a grin. "You know you want a bite, Wolf."

Wolfram, in turn, rolled his eyes and shrugged. He had known Alfonse de Croix far too well. With him, refusing was – sometimes – barely an option. Thus, the prince leaned in, ready to take a piece of the fruit away. Looking back up at Alfonse, the prince smiled. "It's good."

"Well, I know who tastes better." The scholar commented in response.

"Not in front of the child, Fons." The prince warned.

Greta, who was the youngest of the group, looked from Alfonse to Wolfram. She found it amazing – it was _magic_. Anyone who could make his papa smile in an instant was magic; at least that was how the maids explained it to her. Consequently, she assumed that she was magical, herself – Greta was pretty fast in making her papa smile. However, that was another story.

"Daddy!" The girl greeted when she turned towards the castle entrance. Allowing all the peaches to move in one arm, she raised another to wave at her father.

Both Wolfram and Alfonse looked to where Greta called. True enough, the young king stood. With a stoic expression that was rarely seen on his face.

"Hey," Yuuri nodded as he walked towards the group.

"Look what I got!" The – still – youngest of them exclaimed. "Lots of peaches! Papa said we'd ask the maids to make pie!"

"You could probably make a lot more with that bunch." The king chuckled, pulling himself out of the stoic mood he was in the moment he witnessed how Wolfram easily bit from the peach Alfonse offered. He was secretly disappointed of how the prince just gave in.

At that point, the king was well aware of his emotions.

"You're finally out of the office, huh?" Alfonse smiled, fighting off the annoyance that crept up his spine. They were disturbed by the odd-ball king once more.

"Yeah, this is a _way _better view than the stacks of papers up there." Yuuri responded with an attempt to veer the venom in his voice away. He unknowingly moved himself beside the prince.

The scholar cocked his head, resting a free hand on his hip as he bit from the peach he held. "I couldn't agree with you more."

It was Wolfram – who they were talking about was the prince.

However, the said prince did not allow himself to make any sort of connection as he returned to wearing a frown. "So, what you're saying is that you left your paper work?"

Yuuri, who tore his attention away from the snide expression Alfonse had on his face, twitched. "Aren't you supposed to be on patrol, or something?" He argued sharply.

Alfonse answered, "He was called back in, so his patrol ended early." Then, the scholar swiftly snaked his arm around Wolfram's waist. Yet, the gesture was done in a gentle manner, barely making an effort to pull the prince closer to him.

But it still managed to irritate Yuuri.

"Well, Lady Cecile covered for me." The king snorted.

"Mother _what_?!"

Greta kept quiet as she watched what unfolded before her eyes. She was thinking again – and she remembered that the maids said Yuuri was magic as well. He was the center of Wolfram's affections and the prince was contented with it. They said that Wolfram mustered how to smile beautifully; no matter how rare it came out, when her father came into his life.

However, Greta also remembered that when the maids talked about Yuuri and Wolfram, it was all in past-tense.

**-.-.-**

They spent the entire afternoon together. Greta, Wolfram, Alfonse, and Yuuri, all four of them coped with each other's company in the courtyard. And if one knew the circumstances properly, one could wonder how exactly Alfonse and Yuuri survived being with each other.

Yuuri released a heavy breath as he found himself resting his back onto the peach tree.

"Why are you so tired?" Wolfram, who sat beside him, asked sarcastically, "You've done just about nothing the entire day."

"Hey, I finished a stack." The king answered, sneaking a peek at the person beside him.

"…signing papers isn't _that _hard." The prince eyed the other.

"With Gwendal breathing down your neck?" Yuuri replied with a shrug. "I don't know about that. I have feeling he hates my guts."

Wolfram could only nod, too tired to speak. He, then, along with Yuuri turned to what was happening in front of them. And the prince, at the scene, could not help but smile as did Yuuri – much to his chagrin. But it was a pleasant sight to see. Greta, who dragged Alfonse away when she saw a bird land in a nest hidden beneath the shrubs, happily asked the scholar away. They were seated comfortably beside each other as they talked about the birds and probably other animals as well.

"Greta really likes him, huh?" The king spoke bitterly.

"I guess," the prince voiced out tiredly. "She was ecstatic about the idea of having three sets of parents."

"Three?"

"You and Lady Katarina, Fons and myself, and," there was a brief pause – "you and me," Wolfram added, failing to hide the hesitance.

"What's wrong with just _you _and _me_?"

"…Yuuri, are forgetting that you will be married soon and everything is conjugal? Therefore, it follows Greta will be Lady Katarina's as well." The prince explained clearly. "Anyway, she's looking forward to weddings."

Yuuri flinched, "Wedding_s_? As in, _our_ wedding_s_?"

The prince nodded and yawned, "Yours and mine – but I don't want to get married…"

The latter looked to his side, "What happened to companionship?" He suppressed his happiness as he went on to looking at Alfonse, who was still taking his time with Greta.

"You didn't let me finish," The other replied woozily. His words came in a yawn. "I don't want to get married _now_. I can't, not right now. Not… until—" the prince cut himself off as he allowed another yawn, a third one, escape his lips. He was too tired from the early morning patrol and from accompanying three _children_.

"I bet you miss Lady Katarina," Wolfram absentmindedly said in a lull.

Yuuri blinked, in turn.

"She's diligently doing all the duties of a fiancé," the other continued in confession, "When we were engaged," another yawn, "Sometimes I'd go with you because those duties were tedious…"

"E – eh?" The king gasped, partly saddened by the fact that he was a tool for his escape as well as partly surprised that the Wolfram von Bielefeld was not as hardworking as he let out to be.

"Don't get me wrong, I care about your… fidelity too." The prince's eyes cocked to the side a bit as his eyes started to close. He never thought he would want to sleep as much as he did at that point. "But… that's another…thing…"

Yuuri, who found himself amused by the sleepiness in Wolfram's gentle voice, smiled. He continued to watch, "What did you do when _we_ were engaged?" The king asked without noticing that he had directly acknowledged the status he had with his former fiancé.

"You know, stuff…" the prince answered, failing to note the words the latter had used. "Studying… consort stuff… and visiting nearby towns… orphanages for starters, homes…" With those words, Wolfram's voice disappeared into a light snore – signifying that he had fallen asleep.

"Wolfram?" Yuuri cooed, still wearing a small smile. "Wolfram," he called again; however he knew that he could not draw anymore responses from the sleeping prince. Nonetheless, Yuuri continued to call – he liked hearing Wolfram's name in his own voice.

The king, then, leaned closer to Wolfram's sleeping form – wishing that he could observe beyond what he could see. And Yuuri did see something at that moment. He found himself thinking that he did not mind waking up beside the prince. Not only when the moment was granted but also in the years that should come. However, the king decided that he deny himself of such a thought.

He had a fiancé, whom he loved: Lady Katarina.

With that, he pulled himself away before the temptation to lean a bit closer sprang itself into his mind. Yuuri found it difficult. It was as if he, during that very point, was made to gravitate closer to the sleeping prince. It was as if Wolfram was the earth which he stood on. More than anything else, it was as if he would die if he parted from the prince.

Yet Yuuri could not fathom why.

Suddenly, "A firefly…!" The king whispered in awe as a small light appeared, glowing on Wolfram's nose.

Yuuri looked around them, wondering if there was more.

But there was only one.

**-.-.-**

It was evening and Katarina held back her laughter as she entered sneakily into the royal chamber. Her feet tapped lightly, nearing the clueless king who stood with his back facing the doorway from which she entered. She missed him – and it was something Katarina was very much willing to admit. Of course, who would not miss the man they loved? Most especially when one was rarely by his side?

"Guess who?" The woman asked playfully as she covered the king's eyes with her hands.

"Katarina!" Yuuri, in turn, merely chuckled while he gently pulled himself out his fiancé's hold. He turned, "You're here."

"What's the matter? You don't sound like you've missed me at all." Katarina pouted, noting that – although Yuuri had worn a smile – it felt lost. Or, rather, not hers.

"What are you talking about?" The king argued, still wearing the smile that Katarina did not seem to own. "Of course, I missed you! I rarely see you in the day and you're already asleep when I arrive at night."

"Still…" The woman sighed as she opted to stand a few inches away from where her fiancé stood. "Anyway, what are you reading?" She asked, noticing the book that her fiancé held in hands.

"Hm? Some courtship manual." The king looked down at what he held. "Wolfram gave it to me some days ago."

A grim expression graced Katarina's features as she heard the name she never wanted to hear. "Lord von Bielefeld did?" She continued to ask out of bitter curiosity. "Why would he do that? I happen to know that you're a very good fiancé."

Yuuri laughed without knowing or _hearing _the bitterness that rang quite visibly within Katarina's voice. He forgot how much his own fiancé disliked his former one. "Well, it wouldn't be bad to learn more, and I got curious when I saw it lying around the room." He admitted, directing his eyes back at the open pages he held. "Besides, it's Wolfram. If it's best for me, then he would know." He went on with utmost trust in the prince, who was not present at the moment.

_Twice_, Katarina counted to herself as she remained in her area.

"Hey, you went to surrounding towns, right? And visited orphanages and homes?" The king smiled slightly as he cast a glance at his fiancé. To which, the woman merely nodded to affirm that she did, in fact, do those things he mentioned. "Wolfram did those too when we were still engaged." He added, regardless of confessing his supposedly _accidental _engagement in a smooth manner once again.

It was as if Yuuri greatly adored his time with Wolfram.

_Thrice_, Katarina mentally counted again.

**-.-.-**

In the still of the night as well as in the long hours that had passed since their argument, Gwendal and Conrad remained in silence. The two men, who were undoubtedly and equally concerned for their youngest brother's well-being, allowed themselves in the calm atmosphere of the palace patio. Nonetheless, there was still the existence of the slight animosity between them.

An animosity which aroused from their heated debate regarding Wolfram's relationships.

Gwendal, who was well against having to settle Wolfram with either of the two, sipped his wine as he stood, looking at the dark view of what was supposed to be the garden. While, Conrad, on his part, stayed seated on one of the conveniently placed benches. His smile was not visible since the moment he decided that Yuuri would best fit Wolfram in the instance that he would be left to choose between the king and his scholar friend.

Their debate turned into a sour spat among siblings.

"Gwen," Cecile chimed into the scene with her own glass and bottle of wine as she sat beside her second son. "Your grumpiness is contagious! Look at Conrad!" She pouted as she gestured towards the man she mentioned. "Honestly, with all your angst, I think Wolfie's the only son who will remain wrinkle-free! Look at him, surrounded by beautiful men!" Her last sentence: an implication of Yuuri's and Alfonse's undivided attention to Wolfram.

"Mother, I really don't think this is the right time to poke fun at Wolfram's predicament." Conrad frowned, scolding the former queen just as the eldest son grunted.

Cecile rolled her eyes, "I'm not poking fun at his love life! I'm fixing it!" She smiled as she gracefully drank from her glass.

"And just how did you plan to do that?" Gwendal turned rapidly while he recalled what the servants and guards had informed him. "To pull Wolfram out of his duties and put him in the middle of a scholar, who can't seem to make keep his hands of off him, and a king, whom – because of _your_ insistence – left documents unsigned?"

"Of course," the former queen nodded, "How else will I be able to even the playing field when you keep Wolfram away from a suitor while locking the king from pursuing who he should want?"

"Wolfram's love life," Conrad argued – mentally admitting that, sometimes, their mother crossed the line. "No. _Their_ love lives are not games you can play, mother! Stop meddling."

"And I didn't say they were," Cecile answered in a calm fashion, leaning her back against the bench's wooden rest. "Right now, Wolfie is as emotionally drained with what has happened with His Majesty." She added, "But, he is given the chance to be free and choose who he thinks he should be with! Whether it would be with the king, who is slowly learning, or with Alfonse, who has been in love with him since they've met."

Cecile's first son grunted once more. "Such would only confuse all three of them." He seethed underneath his breath.

And it was a statement Conrad agreed with, "Yes, mother, I don't see how this would _fix _anything between any of them at all. Furthermore, let's not forget – His Majesty is _engaged_ with Lady Katarina."

"That's the beauty of love," the former queen released a light ounce of laughter as she looked from one son to the next. "It's incredibly frustrating and unbelievably stupefying; however, in the end, the one who loves becomes happy and wise." She, then, sang lightly: "Besides, they're _just_ engaged. Lady Katarina and the king have yet to be married."

Gwendal, still, continued to frown. His eyes, settled only on his mother. "As Conrad said before, _stop _meddling." He sternly requested.

Which only caused Cecile to smile wider, looking her first born straight in his eyes – "This question goes to you and to you, as well, Conrad:" she started, shifting her gaze towards her second born, "Isn't hindering both Alfonse and Yuuri or purposely allowing one to gain the upper hand meddling as well?"

With those words, silence reigned over the family. Cecile had hit them, and both men realized that their mother was right. They – who unintentionally did so – played a significant role in meddling with Wolfram's matters of the heart. And although they could argue that they were merely looking out for their baby brother's best interests, they were also – in some sort of way – suffocating him. Most especially when they controlled who should see him or who should not see him. In the end, they were the ones who left Wolfram limited choices.

They found their mother quite amazing at the most unforeseeable moments.

"Fine," the older of Cecile's two sons finally answered. "From… from now on, let's have things happen the way they should."

The younger sighed as he forced himself to smile, "Yes."

The former queen nodded – "I'm glad you understand." She said, "Since the 'better' we spoke of before is just starting."

**To Be Continued**


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: THERE WILL BE A LOT OF MISTAKES, I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO EDIT ATM. **Also, as you may have noticed, my updates are taking longer than usual. Pray for the best that I can still update this story as much as possible.

**-.-.-**

The evening veiled the New Makoku sky silently that night as the days before went about peacefully. There were merely the daily routines that the castle inhabitants grew accustomed to. Disregarding the fact that the king found some time to spend with him or his scholarly friend managed to become bolder in his actions, Wolfram found the times quiet. However, he had always known – as much as other soldiers did – there was always calm before the storm.

The storm: the state ball – the event in which the king would finally ask his fiancé's hand in marriage. While the calm referred to the dwindling time they would have left to spend time with each other. Not that Wolfram minded. He knew the time would arrive in a little less than two weeks. He was prepared for it. At least, that was what he wanted himself to believe.

Wolfram sighed, looking at the night sky above him as he allowed himself to bask in the evening air. He leaned on the marbled balcony railing, still fixated on the darkness above. There were no stars. There was no moon. It was only an empty plain of black – as if someone had poured an entire can of black paint onto white canvas. Still, the prince found it alluring – the color.

He smiled.

"Lord von Bielefeld," a feminine voice called out from behind. A voice Wolfram never liked to hear.

Nonetheless, he turned his head to the direction it came from – "Lady Katarina," he nodded after straightening his posture.

It would be rude of him not to do so.

Not that he cared.

Wolfram noted that the woman had stepped into the balcony, perhaps to make her way near him. True enough, Katarina did make her way forward. Luckily, she stopped at a distance wherein Wolfram could still hold himself back from gritting his teeth. He was still bitter and he knew it quite well – Wolfram was, of course, still learning to move on and it was difficult.

"I'd like to talk to you." Katarina spoke up with a firm diction. Her eyes rose to meet the prince's.

"Yes, My Lady?" Wolfram held back the impending vomit as his words smoothly escaped his lips.

The king's fiancé took a deep breath and held out a familiar book. "Please refrain from giving His Majesty, myfiancé, ideas." She said, forcing the book into the prince's hold before she gracefully raced back to where she stood.

"This book," Wolfram raised his brow at the item in his hands – the book he mockingly gave Yuuri some time ago. "Don't tell me he _actually_ reads this?"

"He likes browsing through it."

"What an idiot." The prince muttered to himself, quite sure that the woman before him would not hear.

"So as I've said before," Katarina continued from where she left off, "Please stop giving Yuuri ideas."

"Rest assured, Lady Katarina, I'm not doing anything of that sort." The prince politely defended himself, meeting with Katarina's eyes once more. "However, if he does follow the instructions in this book, then I assure you that you will have yourself a better lover." He off-handily added with a snort.

"I must say that the king is perfect the way he is," the king's fiancé argued back. "He does not have to live up to your delusions just because you've bitterly severed your relationship!"

Wolfram, at those very words, flinched. Choosing to ignore Katarina's remarks, the prince merely asked: "I take it that this whole conversation will not be about this book?" With that, he raised the said item with one hand as his other landed on his hip.

"I _order_ you to keep away from Yuuri."

**-.-.-**

Yuuri was not entirely sure how exactly he had ended himself up in a frustrating situation with Alfonse. All he knew was that he came into the palace archive a few minutes back, hoping to find the book Wolfram gave him. He actually found the book interesting and he _actually _liked reading it, but – suddenly – it just disappeared. It was not in his room nor was it in his office. Thus, he was certain that someone must have found it and returned it to where it belonged. However, it disappointed him when he could not see it _anywhere_ on the shelves or in the piles of books. Moreover, he found it even more aggravating that Alfonse, who was inside the archive since before he arrived, forced him into a very random discussion.

Somehow, they ended up talking about Wolfram.

Somehow, they also ended up in an argument.

"What?" The king asked incredulously – his eyes solely on the scholar.

The said scholar, sat far from the shelf the Yuuri stood by. "Come on, Your Ma—I mean, _Yuuri_," he corrected himself before Yuuri could cut him off with a correction. "What was so vague about what I said?" He smiled, crossing his arms. "I don't like you. At least, I don't like you whenever you're around Wolfram."

"Yes, I got that much," Yuuri responded. "But you're _not _the boss of me. You can't tell me what to do or who to be with."

"That is _not_ what I said," Alfonse replied, slightly irritated at the fact that Yuuri did not understand him at all, "But since you put things that way, it would be better if you did. If I may remind you, you are engaged. I don't think hanging around your former fiancé would be very helpful to your relationship."

"Who asked you, anyway?" The king argued.

"Just who _is _Wolfram von Bielefeld to you?"

Then there was silence as a sudden pause came about – Yuuri was at a loss at that point. As a consequence, he had wondered why so. Especially, when the question was as simple as _whom_ Wolfram was to him; more so that it already came with the standard answer: Wolfram von Bielefeld was his friend. Yet Yuuri could not seem to force the words out of his mouth – it was as if he was unconsciously refusing to do so.

"Can't answer?" Alfonse leaned back onto his chair. Yuuri, in turn, silently watched. "Let's change the question then." He added with a sly and mocking smirk, "What is Wolfram?"

Yuuri cocked his head slightly to the side. The question was oddly phrased. "What do you mean _what_ is Wolfram?"

"Define him."

"Huh?"

The scholar's eyes rolled in annoyance. Briefly, in the back of his head, he wondered why Wolfram was so smitten by someone as clueless as the young king before him. "Let me start," he snorted, "Wolfram's eyes are green. Now, you," the scholar – then – gestured to his companion.

"I don't get where this is going," the king sighed, only to be snorted at once more by a very annoyed scholar in front of him. "FINE! Wolfram's is a pretty boy!"

Alfonse's brow rose, "That's it? Come on, there's more to it than that. I mean, he's loyal, caring, and brave."

"Well, you've said it all, so what else is there to say?" Yuuri argued miserably, "That Wolfram lashes out a lot but when he's at the peak of his anger, he stays deathly silent?" He continued as his voice grew louder without his control, "That when the problem concerns his emotions, he runs away as fast as possible because he's afraid?" He then took a step away from the shelf as his eyes did not move from Alfonse at all. "That he's temperamental, and nothing I do pleases him? I mean, compared to you, my hand can count the few times I made him happy!"

The other continued in his silence, hoping to hear more of what the latter had to say. And the king did so continue: "That Wolfram is only ever truly happy with anyone else but me – Greta, his brothers, his mother, _you_. The fact that _you_," he pointed quite harshly towards the scholar, "Can do it so easily annoys me! But I try to not mind, because when he's happy, the whole world lights up even at night." Yuuri's voice calmed down just as he composed himself. He turned to one of windows – hoping for a view of the night sky. "Although, now that I remember, Wolfram lights up no matter what emotion he shows. He just radiates more when he's happy and happy suits him better."

Alfonse's smirk grew into a smile as he looked at Yuuri's frame. "Have you ever realized that you watch Wolfram a lot?"

Yuuri, on his part, froze – yet he managed to somehow turn back to his companion. He stayed silent, knowing that the other would eventually answer the question he would never raise.

"Haven't you noticed? You talk about him as if he's the air you breathe – you may have been in love with him since the beginning, _Your Majesty_," the scholar pointed out in a tone that was half amused and half infuriated. "Or you've _fallen_ in love with him. I think."

Blood raced swiftly onto the king's face, visibly coloring it an interesting shade of crimson. His eyes widened, "W – what are you… I'm engaged… that, no…" He shook his head in half-hearted denial. The king knew very well that Alfonse had made a point. Looking back at everything that had happened, Yuuri just knew that there was something different between Wolfram and himself. Even when he was engaged to another woman. Nevertheless, he had yet to comprehend what exactly was strange. "How would you know… anyway?" The king resigned himself as he hoped to find clarity with his own spectrum of emotions.

"This question is coming from the king who claims to be in love with Lady Katarina?" Alfonse commented, and Yuuri merely glared. "Fine," he rolled his eyes again. "Two years before you arrived, I decided to ride up north to start my study. So the plan was Lord von Gyllenhaal giving me a ride up until New Makoku since he had a ball to attend to, and I was going the same direction. After that, I was supposed to be on my own. But then Lady Cecile was... _you know_… and I ended up staying longer than I should. And it led to meeting Wolfram." His lips stretched wider.

"Are you gonna finish your story?" Yuuri was genuinely aggravated by Alfonse's face.

"Well, aren't you impatient," Alfonse argued. "So Wolf and I began spending time with each other, and at some point, I felt like I belonged with him and _to _him. And I would gladly forego my studies just to stand by his side always. He had this pull on me, but I didn't mind." He admitted with the most sincere voice, while the latter attempted to hold back what he felt like a rush of vomit up his throat.

Yuuri was even more annoyed.

"Then, the ball came and it was coincidentally the same night the fireflies came out." The scholar continued, still with a fond expression gracing his face, "I saw Wolfram that night, he was so happy watching those insects. Instantly, I thought to myself: 'what would it be like to wake up every morning and _kiss _him happy?' Then, I just went up to him and _kissed_ him." Alfonse chuckled before observing the grimness that veiled the king's face.

"Don't kill me just yet; Wolfram wasn't _happy_ with what I did. If that helps," he teasingly warned. "Anyway, although he and his brother's almost killed me, I was glad I kissed Wolf – for two reasons. One, because I was never going to live it down had I missed the opportunity. Two, I confirmed that Wolfram was the person I want to wake up to every morning of my life. I love him."

Yuuri's frown deepened, "So you're saying you love him because you kissed him?" He sneered, "I don't think that's a good reason to fall in love with someone, _Fons_."

"Do you even listen, _Yuuri_?" Alfonse countered, "I said the kiss _confirmed_. I fell in love with Wolfram somewhere in between! When I started seeing a future with Wolfram and myself, when I wanted to be close to him! When I started watching him in a way that I would normally not – the way _you_ watch _him_. Geez, you are every bit of an idiot Wolf says you are. No offense."

The king kept his silence as a contemplating expression appeared on his face. Then he spoke, "He talks to you a lot, huh?" His temper seemed to have quieted down.

The scholar, in reply, snorted – "Of course," he proudly stated.

"Hey, Wolfram tells me things too!" Yuuri defended himself. "He said you proposed to him!"

Alfonse snickered, "Ah, that." He grinned, "Yeah, I did. After surviving Wolfram's fireballs, I decided to ask if we could get married at the age of ninety. I figured if I was willing to give up my own occupation for him, then I must have been ready to be stuck with that guy for the rest of my life. I was lucky Wolfram agreed."

The latter, although unhappy with the confession the other made, out of plain curiosity, asked: "Why ninety? Why not as soon as possible?" He finally sat down at the far front of Alfonse.

"I wanted to prove myself worthy of him – which was probably a mistake on my part." Alfonse answered in a simple tone, "I've been ready to marry him since the moment I asked. But _you_ came, and here we are in a very complicated situation. He's still completely head-over-heels for you, and I know he will never love me as much as he loves you."

Yuuri leaned back into his own chair. His eyes were solely on Alfonse's as Alfonse's own were on his. They were quiet. At that moment, no words could find a way out of anyone. However, it did not mean there was nothing left to say. On the contrary, the king's mind had a lot of thoughts on the situation. He just could not find the right words to define them.

"Why are we talking about this, anyway?" Yuuri finally found himself asking – yet it was not what he wanted to talk about. "What's the point?"

"Because you have to figure yourself out – I mean, I sort of understand _who _and _what _Wolfram is to you, but do you – yourself – even _know_?"

"So… I really _am _in love with Wolfram?"

"Didn't I assume that earlier?" Alfonse merely shrugged. "But anyway, as I said: figure it out."

"Why?" Yuuri blinked.

"Just thank me for being kind enough to give you a chance."

"No, really…!" The king returned to his frown. "Why are you telling me these things now?"

"You have a few more days until the state ball. Wolfram said you planned to ask Lady Katarina's hand in marriage then." In reply, the scholar briefly paused before speaking once more, "In other words, you have two weeks to sort your feelings out." He seemed challenging at that point. "Whereas, I have six years to get Wolfram to fall in love with me to some extent."

"And if I figure things out?" Yuuri crossed his arms.

"I will just have to pray that Wolfram would pick me over you."

**-.-.-**

"You are not my king," Wolfram seethed, "Forgive me, but I do not answer to your orders."

Katarina released a sigh of irritation, "But I will be your queen." She said.

It was a statement that caused the prince to inwardly cringe. To Wolfram, having a woman such as Lady Katarina as the queen was a terrible idea. She was only fortunate that he managed to control his own temper and fought the urge to refute her statement violently. Nonetheless, Wolfram decided he would not back down without a fight. Especially against someone he disliked; yet – to some degree – respected.

Somehow.

"If you're having problems with Yuuri accompanying me due to your own absences," the prince coldly stated, "Then address it to him. Not to me. This is _your _relationship."

"For saying those words, you've confessed that you are, in fact, a home wrecker," the woman, in turn, held her ground. Her brows furrowed and her lips bended into a frown. "A thief!" She accused as loud as possible. "I've known you've been bitter; however I never knew you'd stoop this low!"

With those words she crossed the line – "How dare you accuse me of theft," Wolfram countered in an eerily calm manner. His expression was nonchalant; although his own brows furrowed. "When you of all people know who has done the stealing?"

Katarina's eyes widened at the prince's very claim. She had been insulted in a manner she never thought she would be: by bringing out the truth. She knew very well that, during the course of Yuuri and Wolfram's engagement, she was attracted to the young king. She _wanted _him, to be precise. Thus, Katarina opted to steal him away – it was a stunt she prevailed in. Without any sort of guilt as there was only the slight fear of the prince's wrath.

"Did I offend you, _Lady_ Katarina?" Wolfram asked while the woman remained wordless. "Well, then, I should take my leave." He said as he _did _aim to leave the vicinity that – to him – Katarina polluted. Without an apology and regardless of how bitter he may have sounded, he continued to speak: "Don't worry; I'm not as low as you."

And then the prince left.

**-.-.-**

Yuuri blinked at the sight of the stomping prince who had just rounded the corner – probably to greet Greta a goodnight, just as he had done so a few minutes after his conversation with a certain scholar. He was quite disturbed at the time and decided that the only way to clear his mind was to see the bright and smiling face of the daughter he adopted. She managed to calm him down; much like Wolfram had when he was not _destructive_.

However, the prince was in a very destructive mood at that moment.

All the calm that the king gathered dissipated.

"Wolf," Yuuri called as Wolfram made his way down the halls, nearing the king with every heavy step he took. He was silent, yet ever so deadly. Yuuri knew that the prince was beyond aggravation – Wolfram was _angry_. "Hey." Yuuri voiced out, attempting to greet the prince once more.

Wolfram, in turn, merely nodded.

It worried him – and not because he was afraid.

"Hey," Yuuri called again as he grabbed onto Wolfram's wrist upon his passing. "What's wrong?" He questioned.

"It's nothing." Wolfram courtly answered back without facing the king, who was still holding onto him. "Please let go of me."

"How can you say it's nothing? You're only this silent when you're possessed." The king pointed out. He still refused to let go of the prince who stood before him. "_That_ or you're mad."

"…what do you know?" The prince, then, turned to the king. Yanking his wrist away from Yuuri's hand, he glared straight into said king's eyes.

Yuuri frowned for the umpteenth time that night, just as Wolfram had. However, he opted to ignore the prince's rudeness while noticing a familiar book in the prince's other hand. "Hey, that book!" He suppressed his exclamation, "Where'd you find it?"

Eyeing the item he had completely forgotten about, Wolfram snorted: "This?" He said, raising the book. Consequently, he gave the king a better view. "Your _fiancé_ demanded I keep it away from you." Wolfram added in a sickened manner.

And it was a tone that Yuuri did not fail to miss. "Is this about Katarina?"

"Didn't I say it was nothing?"

"If it concerns Katarina, it's _not_ nothing!" The king snapped back. "And if it concerns _you_ then it certainly isn't a petty concern! You can talk to me."

"And this is the reason why you're fiancé is breathing down my neck!" The prince held back his yell by a bit. "Can you just attend to her now?"

"What did she say that's gotten you all riled up?"

"Just leave me alone and attend to her!"

"Not unless you tell me what she did!"

"You really want to know, _Your Majesty_?!" Wolfram growled, throwing the book down onto the marbled palace floor. "If you must," he continued as anger became even more evident in the sound of his voice. "She's ordering me to stay away from you!" The prince stomped towards Yuuri, landing a finger onto the latter's chest. "I honestly don't know what's gotten into her. But you should fix this, wimp! You are messing up not only your own relationship but you're destroying it _with_ the expense of me! She accused me of home wrecking!" He confessed harshly; however Yuuri remained motionless and soundless – the king knew he had nothing good to offer.

Yuuri could merely stare at the prince, amongst all else.

Yet, Wolfram cared very little then as he crossed his arms and willingly added: "I am not about to be branded as a thief—"

Suddenly, the king's hands cupped the angered prince's still charming face.

And before Wolfram could even grasp what was happening, Yuuri's lips landed on his.

**To Be Continued**


	16. Chapter 16

It was searing, and – at that point – neither one of the two was in a conscious state. Yuuri had his eyes closed when he suddenly decided to crash his lips onto those of whom he knew were his _former_ fiancé's. Wolfram, as well, had tightly closed his eyes on the sudden impact. It was the only gesture he could do. Not because he was conscious of it, but because of the heat that he had been secretly longing for.

Nonetheless, the kiss came in a moment when it was not proper. It was treason. It was wrong. However, Yuuri's hold as well as his lips had demanded him to stay where he was. The kiss was authoritative. Yet, beyond the kiss' betrayal and command, Wolfram had never felt so safe. Yuuri's lips seemed to whisper onto his, _I'll protect you. I'll keep you safe._

But it was still wrong.

Upon the realization, the prince pounded against the king's chest. Finally forcing his way out Yuuri's hold, Wolfram fought against the impending smile that threatened to stretch across his face. Instead, he forced himself to wear frown – rationality and conscience both stated that such was the right thing to do.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Wolfram yelled as his glare seemed sharp enough to murder Yuuri, who still remained wordless.

Two fireflies appeared right then.

Yet no one noticed.

**-.-.-**

Murata watched Yuuri groan into his hands for the umpteenth time in the past minutes as he sat in a chair that was situated beyond the office desk. Sitting in the young king's office, hoping to discuss less pressing matters, the sage found himself bombarded by a panicking royal. A royal who, he had to constantly remind himself, was also a learning teenager. Just like him, at the moment.

However, Murata knew he had to be his sagely self.

The king needed a voice of reason, after all.

"Shibuya, amidst everything you've said," the sage started as his chin landed on his laced hands. "I must admit that I understood absolutely nothing."

"What's there to not understand?!" The king asked in a rather violent manner. His eyes were round and wide just as his mouth had set into a thin line shortly before speaking again. "I ended up kissing Wolfram and now he won't talk to me!"

Murata, at his friend's words, blinked. He was undoubtedly surprised by the words that ran out from Yuuri's lips. The sage had no idea whether the king was absentminded or aware of the things he said. "Wait," he started with a serious tone, "What _exactly _are you upset about?"

"Aren't you listening?! Wolfram won't even talk to me! He just passes me by!"

"So… let me get this straight: are you upset because Wolfram's ignoring you or are you upset because you kissed Wolfram?"

"Wolfram. Is. Ignoring. Me."

Murata blinked again while Yuuri remained unaware of what his companion heavily implied. "Well, I did _not_ see this coming at all." The sage confessed, tilting his head to the side. "Why did you kiss Lord von Bielefeld, anyway? I mean… yeah," he was quite lost with his own words. "_why_?"

The king paused – it was as if he had held his breath.

Yet, it was merely a short stop.

"Because it felt like the right thing to do," it was – then – Yuuri's turn to confess. "It's like the entire universe would finally settle down if I kissed him."

"Universe?" The sage asked with so much curiosity.

"His and mine." The king answered shyly. "I mean, he was so angry that it looked like he was going to set the entire kingdom on fire. And I was there, watching him while my insides felt like they were twisting and turning –" he looked onto the desk. "It _really _felt like everything would calm down if I…"

"That's poetic." Murata leaned closer, "Do you ever feel that way when Lady Katarina is angry with you?"

"Strangely, no. And if you're trying to help me figure out my feelings for Wolfram, stop." Yuuri sighed into his hands. "Fons already did."

"Oh?" The latter reacted, "What happened?"

"I guess, I'm pretty in love with Wolfram as well." The king smiled in a tender manner.

"Honestly, Shibuya," the king's sage replied in a light chuckle, "I find it weird that you're acknowledging all of these things on your own. Usually, you're the first run." He admitted, quite amused of how Yuuri used to deny any sort of feelings towards a very gorgeous prince.

Yuuri only shrugged in return.

"So do you plan on telling him?"

"Yeah… I guess, I mean, it's the right thing to do…?"

Murata's mouth twitched into a wider grin. His glasses glinted underneath the ray of light that entered through the glass windows. "But what about Lady Katarina?" He asked with a slight concern. "Although I'm glad you've found Wolfram, you can't just up and leave her. Well, not that she's any political loss."

The king released another sigh as he looked out the window and onto the sky. "Right. I should talk to her first before I talk to Wolfram, huh?" He followed, "I feel bad though."

"You'll probably do a lot more damage," the sage affirmed in a wise tone. "But it's better to cause those damages now than to create bigger ones you just might regret later on. The question is: are you sure you want this, Shibuya? Are you sure you want Wolfram von Bielefeld?"

Yuuri faced his companion with a more determined expression, "I'm sure I want to be with Wolfram every day of my whole life." He smiled goofily, yet a hint a worry was still present. "I could go on an entire rant saying how he makes me feel comfortable and anxious at the same time, that when I wake in the morning he's first person I want see, and that I'm scared that he'll reject me because I've been an idiot and he deserves someone better than me," his voice softened, "But I'm willing to make things right for us – everything in that rant will just amount to how much I love him."

Then there was silence as the midday sun continued to grace the office. However, the silence was not eerie as it would have seemed if someone had watched from the doorway. On the contrary, it was the hopeful kind of quiet. It was comforting and – somehow, in some sort of way – rejuvenating. And both the king and the sage would not have it any other way at that point.

However, Murata had to speak.

Clearing away from the welcomed silence, Murata crossed his arms and leaned back onto his chair. Notably, there was a grin on his youthful face. "That's just corny." He commented, not as a sage but as a teenager.

**-.-.-**

He remembered clearly how he barged in his daughter's bedroom only to find her still wide awake and playing with the little toys that have accumulated over the years. He also remembered failing to scold her for not being in bed as he assumed her other father may have been too lax and it was his fault, instead, that Greta was still playing with dolls. Lastly, he still remembered how he just landed himself face-first on Greta's bed, how she curiously asked him what was wrong, and how she squealed when she heard the whole story.

If one watched throughout, one would think it was a cute incident that took place not more than two nights back. That is, if one was not Wolfram von Bielefeld.

Wolfram was very much displeased of how things decided to turn out. And the time with his adopted daughter was not at all helpful. Thus, he opted to merely hide. He would either hide in his private room, in the archive with Alfonse, during his soldierly duties, with his brothers, or with Greta. And should he fail to hide from a certain king who suddenly thought it would be best to kiss him, Wolfram would walk pass or ignore Yuuri.

It was quite immature of him.

Now, he was in Gwendal's office – and the prince was certain it was one of the places Yuuri would never dare to enter. Unless, of course, he was called in; however Gwendal would rarely do such an act. At least, Wolfram hoped.

"Wolfram, you spent three hours doing nothing here, in my office, yesterday." Gwendal, too, wore a frown – but it was nothing new. "And you're here _again_, waiting for another three hours or more." The first prince added as he decided it would be the best time to fix his bookshelf. "Is there anything wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," the third prince replied as he held back a tiny squeak that tried to escape from his lips. Wolfram knew that he still had to be dignified even when hiding. That was what he was taught to be. "I just find your office less _stressful_."

There was a stop in Gwendal's movements. It was quite rare for anyone to address his office as a sanctuary. It was contrary to the truth. Each person who entered would often exit with a less delighted expression on his face. The first prince was well aware of that fact. Thus, he concluded, there was definitely something wrong with his brother.

Thus, Gwendal did what he could do, move towards where Wolfram was seated and forced himself beside the third prince. Which he did so flawlessly before he asked: "What's the matter?"

"I told you," Wolfram defended. "Nothing!"

"Then you might as well make your stay useful," the first prince nodded his head at a stack of papers that rested on his table. "Deliver that to His Majesty."

The third prince twitched.

He was _not_ comfortable.

Gwendal knew that much.

"What did the king do this time?" Gwendal asked – or, rather, spat.

Wolfram twitched again, "What makes you think the wimp can do anything?" He said in another defensive manner, which caused his brother to raise a brow.

"You've been ignoring him," was the reply that came from the first prince, "Far more than you used to. Now tell me, what's wrong before any of you cause us trouble."

The third prince hid a sulk as he looked down on his lap. His brow furrowed as he was contemplating whether or not he should speak of the kiss – Wolfram liked to believe that he was no longer bothered with what happened. And that it no longer deserved any more concern. Also, he would rather have Yuuri stay alive.

"Wolfram," Gwendal sternly called.

Wolfram, in turn, shook his head.

Again, Gwendal called: "Wolfram."

Once more, the younger shook his head.

"Then I guess delivering that stack to His Majesty wouldn't be bothersome to you at all," the older prince threatened with a thin line gracing his face. As much as Gwendal would want to refuse having Wolfram meet a certain king, it was the only feasible way to get his youngest brother to speak.

Which worked quite well – Wolfram confessed: "Yuuri kissed me!"

"HE _WHAT_?!" The first prince roared with a very displeased expression – oh, he was more than furious. Yuuri was only so fortunate that he was the king. Else, Gwendal would have already barged into wherever he was and slit his throat. And he would enjoy every second of it.

"Don't do anything!" Wolfram prayed, knowing that the last thing he needed was having his brother kill the only ruler they have. "Please…" He whispered as he levelled his eyes with Gwendal's.

"I don't understand what goes through that boy's brain," the first prince somehow calmed down. "He's free of you and now he wants you back?"

"It could have been a spur of the moment." The third prince defended – failing to hide a disappointed frown. "He's an idiot. He never uses his brain."

"Tell me, Wolfram," Gwendal spoke upon noticing the disappointment that loomed over Wolfram's face. "Are you still in love with him?"

The younger prince breathed heavily as a silent indication of 'yes' while he returned to staring at his lap. "Trust me, I would give anything to just stop my feelings for him," he continued, "But I can't. I'm trying really hard though – I really want to live one day to see Yuuri and just _see_ him without any sort of emotional attachment. I'm starting to believe that I can't. I don't know if it's my heart or my mind that keeps holding on."

The first prince sighed in return, awkwardly scooting near his youngest brother. "I take it that you will never find yourself attracted to de Croix." He said, and – in turn – Wolfram nodded guiltily. "Don't lose heart," Gwendal cleared his throat. "I'm certain that one day you'll find the one just for you and you'll find yourself letting go. Or, perhaps, His Majesty might just turn around and look at you the same way you look at him." The words escaped Gwendal's lips without looking at Wolfram. Instead, he was resting his back on the couch they both sat on.

"I hope it comes soon though," the third prince, too, leaned back. "I don't know if I'll survive the state ball. Yuuri plans to propose to Lady Katarina then."

"Whatever you plan on doing from here on out, I will be ready to support you."

"Thank you."

**-.-.-**

"Whoa, there!" Conrad blinked as Yuuri skidded to a stop. "Is there something the matter, Your Majesty?"

Yuuri, who finished his work load and ran out of the office, frowned. "How many times do I have to tell you that you _don't_ have to call me that?" He said, crossing his arms.

"Ah, yes, _Yuuri_," Conrad chuckled as he rested his hands on his hips. "It's a force of habit."

"See, that sounds better." The king chuckled in return. "Anyway, have you seen Katarina?"

The king's godfather merely shook his head in answer and in apology. "May I ask though," Conrad returned to a smile; yet concern was written all over his face. "Is there something wrong? You seem to be in a hurry."

The king shook his head and shot back a small smile. "Ah," he started as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, Murata told me to do it right away before anything else goes wrong. I'm a bit nervous."

"About what?" Conrad blinked.

Yuuri shifted uncomfortably – "You might hate me for this, but since you're his brother," he gulped, "I realized that I'm in love with Wolfram."

And everything became silent.

Until, of course, Conrad articulated a few words that made no sense: "…ah… huh… what?"

Light laughter of discomfort emitted from the king's lips before he gathered the courage to speak again. "That's why I'm looking for Katarina – I… I want to break up with her before I pursue Wolfram." He admitted.

Conrad, then, shook his head in hopes of pulling himself away from the initial shock. "A – are," the king's godfather coughed, "Are you sure? Forgive me if I speak out of line, but what you're dealing with aren't simple emotions, Yuuri."

"I know—"

"No you don't," Conrad snapped unintentionally. "I don't mean to meddle, and after this you can do whatever you choose to do; however, you can't just swing back and forth, Yuuri." He frowned at his godson. "You can't just decide you love Lady Katarina on one day then change your mind and suddenly decide you love Wolfram on the next."

Yuuri, in turn, frowned once more. Nonetheless, he understood where Conrad came from. Of course, who would not be angry at him at that moment? His brows furrowed as he spoke, "I see I have a lot of work cut out for me." He continued, "Don't worry; I'll make a decree if I have to – just to prove that it's Wolfram."

With that, the king ran ahead and away from a bewildered second prince.

**To Be Continued**

**Author's Note: **I'm really trying my best to update!


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